Annoying Professor Snape
by Numairs-Magelet
Summary: The original Annoying Professor Snape fic! Yes, it's back. Insanity ensues when Hermione accepts a challenge...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: Yes, this is THE 99 Ways to Piss Snape Off, also known as Annoying Professor Snape. Yes, it has been forever and a day since I've updated. Yes, I do know it was taken down from (I was the one who took it down...). And yes, I do realize many of those who began reading this fic will have moved on. But hopefully there will be new readers to enjoy this crazy little story.

Also, I know the first chapters aren't that great; I started the writing for this story 5 years ago, when I was 14. So, bear with me. I also realize Hermione's reasons for taking on The Challenge aren't that great. Like I said, I was 14. I'm going through and fixing up small mistakes; little things that don't sound right, don't quite make sense, etc. Some dialogue is being spruced up, being made more believable; some of Hermione's motives are being updated, so that it's more believable. So, if some stuff is different from what you remember... That's why.

And yes, I do realize this entire story is completely out of character; that's the fun part! Please keep in mind that this story is AU, and please disregard the events of Half-Blood Prince while reading this. While there are references to Order of the Phoenix, some stuff will not add up. Don't try and make sense of it, that will just give you a headache. Also, don't complain that Hermione/Snape/McGonagall/whoever would never act this way in 'real life'. I understand that.

**Disclaimers**: The list is not mine. I have been emailed by many people who claimed to have created the 'original' list. The truth is, I don't know who the original creator of The List is. I don't think I will ever know, since I have no way to verify all the claims I've received. Not to mention that almost all the lists are different; some have 101, some 303, and I believe there's one with 404. The tasks vary, list to list. Suffice it to say that I am not the author of The List; I am merely using it as a basis for this fic. Thanks again.

**Annoying Professor Snape**

**Chapter 1:** The Insane Grin and Long Owl

**Task 1:** Grin insanely throughout each and every potions class.

**Duration:** One week.

**Task 2: **Owl him a long and detailed account of your summer holidays.

"Miss Granger!" barked Professor Snape. "Wipe that idiotic grin off of your face and get to work this instant!"

The witch in question just sat there, seemingly unable to hear him, grinning insanely as though he were the funniest thing in the world.

In reality, Hermione Granger was grinning _on purpose_. Yes, she was _purposely_ grinning like a moron in Snape's Potions class. Frankly, the very idea was unheard of because Snape was, at the best of times, described as being 'a tad insufferable, slightly arrogant, a trifle bit infuriating, with a bit of a temper'; at the worst of times he was... well, a range of things not to be mentioned in front of anyone under twelve years of age.

Hermione, of course, knew all this; everyone who had been at Hogwarts for more than two weeks knew that. But, despite his reputation, Hermione had done the unthinkable, the unimaginable, the impossible: she had made a bet to do "ninety-nine things to piss Snape off" as her fellow Gryffindors put it.

It had all started out as a game, something funny to ponder at the end of their sixth year. They had been on their way to the Hogwarts Express, Harry, Ron, Lavender, Parvati, Ginny and her, when Ron, as a joke, had mentioned something about Snape. Hermione, thinking of all the studying she would have to do that summer in order to pass her N.E.W.T.'s, hadn't really been paying attention, so she wasn't sure what exactly started the whole thing, but she sure remembered the rest of the conversation.

They were in the train, and had a compartment to themselves.

"Oh, can you _imagine_ the look on Snape's face if someone actually did that?" Harry had laughed.

"Did what?" Hermione had asked, breaking out of her reverie.

"If anyone owled him a long and detailed account of their summer vacation!" Parvati squealed.

Hermione snickered, "As if anyone would be fool enough to do _that!_"

"I know," Ginny giggled, "they would have to be mad!"

"Well, I don't know Gin," Ron was still laughing, "There are a few things I can think of that would be funnier…"

So they had made up a list of ninety-nine ways to piss Snape off—and had laughed the whole trip.

"Too bad we can't actually put these to good use," Lavender sighed.

"Well…" Parvati said, looking at Hermione.

"_Me_?" she had squeaked. "No way, not me! He'd skin me alive!"

"Aww, come one, it would be hilarious!" Ron had laughed.

"It would be fun…" Ginny had added.

"Tons of fun! Barrels and oodles and truckloads of fun!" Harry had added playfully, green eyes sparkling.

"It could be interesting…" Hermione had admitted.

"So you'll do it, right?" Parvati asked.

"Are you serious?" Hermione asked. "You are, I can tell! Why me?"

"Because you're the bravest," Ron said.

"The smartest," added Parvati.

"The only one able to pull this off," Harry added.

"Without actually getting in trouble," added Lavender.

"You _are_ the only one who would be able to pull this off…" Ginny added, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Why me?"

"You're smart enough to think of ways to do these things without getting suspended, you'll probably be able to get away without any detentions, you're going to be Head Girl next year, and you're the only one crazy enough to actually pull this off without getting hexed out of existence by Snape," Ginny said.

"Besides," Parvati added, "You've worked hard your whole life, Hermione. Voldemort is gone," she continued, without so much as a stutter over using Voldemort's name, "and it's time we had some fun. Time _you_ had some fun. Think about it."

"Parvati is right," Ginny chimed in. "All the horrors are over; next year will be your last year at Hogwarts. Why not make it memorable?"

Hermione looked at the group, her expression thoughtful. They had a point; Hermione had worked hard during her years at Hogwarts. Now that the war was finally over, the majority of the wizarding world felt like a weight had been lifted from their collective shoulders. Yes, there had been parties and celebrations but she had been to busy focussing on schoolwork. On the one hand, her seventh year meant N.E.W.T.'s, which should mean a lot of studying and late nights in the library. On the other hand... Parvati was right. She had spent her life working hard and she could do with having a little fun. Besides, it wasn't as if she couldn't pass her N.E.W.T.'s right now, if she had to.

That decided it; she would hardly neglect her schoolwork, but some fun could hardly hurt.

"I'll do it."

"You're serious?" Ron asked, his eyes wide.

"Yes, I am. Parvati and Ginny are right: why go through the effort of winning the war if I can't enjoy the freedom it brings? As long as it doesn't interfere with schoolwork, endanger anyone, or threaten to get me expelled...I'll do it." She looked sternly at each of her friends. "But know this: If I go down, I'm taking you down with me. Agreed?"

"Agreed!" they all said and shook hands with each other.

Hermione was jolted back to the present when Snape, still berating her, yelled out her name. She was still grinning, which was the first task: Grin insanely throughout each and every potions class for a week. This was her last day.

"Miss Granger! _Stop that insane grinning this instant! _What on Earth is the matter with you? You have been smiling in this class for a week!" So, he _had_ noticed, she thought. He hadn't said anything until today, making her wonder if he even paid attention to his students when not deducting house points.

" I will not permit it!" he continued. "You will not smile like a lunatic in my class. No one should smile at all in my class! I am not here for your amusement! In fact, there is a new policy: I forbid smiling! I forbid it! There will be no smiling within 10 meters of this classroom! None whatsoever!"

She was still smiling.

Snape narrowed his eyes, glaring at Hermione. "Fine. Grin all you want. Twenty five points from Gryffindor! Still feel like smiling?"

"What for?!" Harry shouted, standing up suddenly.

"For...For," Snape seemed to falter; even he couldn't get away with deducting points merely because a student was smiling. "For failing to treat Potions as the serious subject it is." He smiled cruelly at the class (well, the Gryffindor side of it, anyway), before growling, "Now get out!"

Hermione continued to grin until they were out of Snape's vision, Harry and Ron fuming over the loss of points. She had hoped he wouldn't take so many points, but it wasn't as if she wouldn't earn them all back in their next class, Charms. When she said as much to them, they agreed with her and reluctantly stopped planning Snape's demise.

"Did he say anything about your owl?" Lavender asked.

That had been task two. On the second day of school, the day after task one had been assigned, she had been told to 'Owl him a long and detailed account' of her summer holidays.

She had gone on and on about everything she could think of. She had made sure to make it as wordy as possible; it had been practically two feet of parchment. It had talked of going to Scotland with her parents, meeting a boy there (although she left out some of the more personal details), about how cute he was, and how much her parents liked him, about her stay at the Burrow and how nice the Weasleys were, how great Harry was (she made sure to go on and on about Harry, knowing Snape's feelings towards him), what such good friends Ron, Harry, and Ginny were, about the books she had picked up in Diagon Alley, her favorite topic in school… It was long and detailed; she only wished she could have seen his face as he realized what it was.

"No, of course he didn't. What would he have said?" Imitating Snape she added, "Everyone, open your texts to page seven and read up on the Pepper Up Potion and then prepare the potion. By the way Miss Granger, I received your owl and wanted to thank you for providing me with some lovely summer reading. I will, of course, respond to you with tales of my summer when I have the chance." She snorted. "Really Lavender, as if he would even admit he received post from me, let alone discuss it with me!"

"That's true."

They all headed to Charms, laughing merrily.

_Two down, ninety-seven to go,_ Hermione thought. Her next task: Look terrified and leave the hall _anytime_ he picks up his spoon at mealtimes. Duration: Three days.

_And I thought seventh year would be fun…_

_**To Be Continued...**_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**:A HUGE thank you to everyone who reviewed!! I actually remember some of you from way back when, during the first go of this little fic. I'm glad to see some of you are still around. I also love reading all your 'reminiscences', how you remember reading this fic for the first time, etc. Of course, I also love hearing from those of you who are new to this fic; glad to see I'm reaching a wide audience. So, once again, thank you to all of you!

Also, if anyone notices any mistakes, please let me know. Not typos or anything like that, but anything that either doesn't make sense or isn't compliant with Order of the Phoenix. I started this fic before Order came out, but some later chapters were written after I read Order. So, because of that, the beginning chapters might be less canon than the later ones. If you notice anything along those lines, please let me know so I can fix it. I've tried to fix the big ones, but I'm sure there are plenty small mistakes that I missed. Thanks again.

And, one more thing, I'm looking for some other places to host this story, since I really can not stand FFN. Any suggestions would be wonderful. No fictionalley though, since I used to upload there and the whole process was far too complicated; I'm very technologically challenged. I'm mainly posting here because this is where it used to be, and people had me on alert here. So it made it easier. But I'm now open to suggestions. Thanks again!

**Disclaimers**: I got the idea from an email on the WIKTT yahoo group. The List was in an email. Other than that, I cannot say who created The List, as I've had many who have claimed to be the original creator. Of course, as I can't verify who did or didn't write The List, and since each is different, all I can say is that I did not write The List, I am merely using it in this fic.

Also, this fic is beyond out of character. I am taking many liberties with these lovely characters. Snape, especially, shall have quite the personality change. Not enough to make him un-Snape-like, but enough to allow him to work properly in this story. Hermione is still a know-it-all, but she's learning to have some fun. Without giving anything away, be prepared for a barmier-than-ever Dumbledore, an outrageous Tonks, a devious Ginny, questions concerning Draco's sexuality (although, that seems to be a humor!fic standard...) and a not-quite-so-strict McGonagall. What can I saw? The war is over; everyone is feeling a bit different: freer, loving life more, and just plain crazier.

**Annoying Professor Snape**

**Chapter 2** The Spoon and the autograph.

**Task 3:** Look terrified and leave the hall _anytime_ he picks up his spoon at  
mealtimes

**Duration**: Nine meals

**Task 4: **Ask for his autograph

"His spoon? Are you sure that's the third task?" Hermione asked Harry for what had to be the tenth time that day.

"Yes, Hermione, he's sure," Ginny answered.

"Three days?"

"Well, technically," Ron began.

Hermione looked at the five of them suspiciously. They were in the Common Room discussing the next day.

"Technically?"

"Well," Lavender answered, "It's not really three days… It's more like nine meals. That he attends."

"I see…" Hermione said.

"It's like this," Parvati answered, in the straightforward way she had adopted last year. "If it was three days and he missed a meal, you're off the hook. But, if we make it nine meals he attends, it doesn't matter if he misses a whole day—you still have to do it for nine meals."

Hermione sighed. "Okay, that's fair, I guess," she admitted grudgingly.

"Oh, this is going to be a riot!" Ron exclaimed.

"How will he even know she's running out because of him though?" Ginny asked sensibly.

"Hmm, good point." Harry adjusted his glasses. "Well, here's what will happen. First of all, all of us, Hermione included, will be watching Snape. The second he picks up his spoon, we start coughing loudly. Hermione, that's your cue. You look up at him, squeal, and run out of the room. Make eye contact if at all possible. If you can sneak a glance in at the spoon, even better. And you have to run out as if the hall were on fire! Look terrified! Wait a couple minutes, and then come back in the hall. Look as though nothing had happened."

"Won't people question why I ran out?"

"Well, say you saw a spider or something," Ron said, shivering in disgust at the thought.

"So, when I hear you coughing, I look up at Snape, squeal, and run. Got it," she smiled in spite of herself. "This might actually be somewhat amusing."

"'Course it will!" Ron laughed.

"Well, for us anyway," Parvati pointed out.

Hermione walked to the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning. It was meal number one. After this, only eight more. _It won't be that bad_, Hermione thought. _Besides, what are the odds of him even using his spoon? It is breakfast after all. No one uses spoons at breakfast_, she thought, while sitting down.

No one, it seemed, but Professor Snape. Not a minute after she sat down, Snape picked up a spoon to stir something in his cup. Lavender and Parvati started coughing loudly. Ron, Harry and Ginny, who had just walked into the hall, also started coughing. Or laughing. Either way, it had the intended effect: everyone, including Professor Snape, was staring at the Gryffindor table.

Hermione took a deep breath, caught Snape's eye, looked at his spoon and shrieked. Harry, who had seen what she was doing, had motioned for the others to stop coughing. Everyone watched Hermione, who appeared to be scared out of her wits, get up from her seat, glance at the Head Table, and run out of the Hall. No one knew what to make of it.

Harry, Ron, Ginny, Lavender, and Parvati almost died from trying to hold in their laughter. They all sent sly grins to each other and winks were exchanged. They refused to answer any questions about Hermione's behaviour, looking confused when anyone implied her actions were odd. Ginny even went so far as to tell Neville that he should really learn to mind his own business; Hermione looked fine to her.

Hermione was out of the Great Hall, leaning against the door, heart pounding. She wondered what people would think of that, and started laughing at the look on Professor Snape's face when she had run out. Had he realized it was because of the spoon?

Hermione reckoned she should probably go back in. What to say, what to say… She decided against the spider, and opted for forgetting her homework in her room. Yes, that would be believable.

Hermione went back in to the Hall, told her lie, and was grateful Snape didn't touch his spoon for the rest of the meal. It seemed Snape wasn't all bad.

Hermione, Ron, Harry, Lavender and Parvati walked to their next class, Care of Magical Creatures, together, discussing the morning's events.

"It was brilliant!" Exclaimed Lavender.

"Abso-bloody-lutely fantastic! The look on everyone's face was priceless!" Ron added.

"Only eight more meals, Hermione. And you'll probably get off easy at lunch; no one uses their spoon at lunch," Harry said.

"Yeah, I said that about breakfast. Don't jinx it for me, Harry."

"But did he realize it was because of the spoon?" Lavender asked.

"I was wondering that myself," Hermione told her. "I did make eye contact, and I did glance at his spoon, but it all happened so fast. He would probably never, in a hundred years, realize just why I was yelling. I mean, screaming at the sight of Snape's spoon?"

Seamus caught up to their group, catching the last of Hermione's words. "Well, if I caught a glance at Snape's _spoon,_" Seamus said, putting an extra emphasis on the word while waggling his eyebrows, "I'd surely scream too."

The group looked at each other, looked at Seamus, then burst out laughing.

"What?" Seamus asked. "It wasn't _that_ bad of a joke!"

Hermione had thought she was off the hook when they had arrived in the Great Hall and Snape hadn't been there. But, after five minutes, he swooped in, his robes billowing out behind him.

Hermione then thought she was off the hook after looking at the food placed on the table—nothing that required a spoon. And Hermione was right: not once did Snape pick up his spoon.

_Two meals down, seven to go. Piece of cake._

The six of them were in the Common Room, talking and laughing. There was an hour left before dinner, something Hermione was happy for.

"And now its time for task number four!" Harry announced happily.

"What? Already? I'm not even done with task three yet!"

"But that's a long term task. This is just a one-time thing. Well, maybe two."

"Well, what is it?"

"Task number four: Ask for his autograph," Ron stated merrily.

Hermione groaned. "His _autograph_? That's insane."

"I know! It will be hilarious!" Lavender laughed.

"Great! When do I have to do it?"

"After dinner. Catch him before he gets to the dungeons. Then hold out a piece of parchment and a quill and ask. We'll be watching," Parvati told her.

"And countless others!"

"It'll still be fun," Ginny assured her.

"Yeah, for you guys."

They just laughed and informed her it was dinnertime.

Hermione sat down, thinking about how likely it was Snape would use his spoon. Very likely, it seemed, as she heard coughing coming from across the table. Once again, everyone in the Hall turned to see what was going on at the Gryffindor table.

Hermione glanced at Snape, who was glaring at them, then his spoon, then gasped, squeaked, and ran from the Hall. She could hear laughing and muttering following her as she closed the door behind her. She couldn't help but think that Snape must realize why she was leaving the hall.

She waited, then returned, claiming that she had just remembered that she needed a book to return to the library after dinner. No one noticed she came back to the table empty handed.

Dinner was over and everyone was leaving the Great Hall. Hermione reached into a pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. She was fortunate that Snape was one of the last ones out of the Hall; there would be less people around to hear her request.

"Professor Snape!" She shouted. She saw him slow, but he made no effort to stop. "Professor Snape," she called once more. This time he stopped and turned to face her.

"What is it, Miss Granger?" He asked impatiently.

"Well, I uh…" Hermione broke off nervously and glanced around. Harry and the rest were there, along with a few Slytherins, who were passing by, and a Ravenclaw or two. She took a deep breath, held out the quill and parchment and said, "Professor Snape, can I have your autograph?"

_**To Be Continued...**_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**. Thank you for all your reviews; they feed my soul. And my muse. Like I've said, I love reading your reminiscences of the first time you read this story. I suppose this fic is a blast from the past for a lot of us. I'm also glad to know this fic is flowing a little smoother; while reading the early versions, I actually cringed in places, and not a good cringe either (if there is such a thing...). So, yes, much revisions were (and still are) needed. Feel free to point out what doesn't work (except characterizations, those are exactly the way they need to be for this fic to work in later chapters). And I'm also trying to set the language to English, U.K. but it randomly decides to turn off. Again, trying to fix this so that the spellings, at least, are somewhat authentic.

One quick thing... if the format on the chapters looks off, it's FFN. Apparently, they've changed stuff about formatting, characters they do or don't allow, etc, since the last time I've posted here. I'm still trying to figure all that out. So, if the chapters seem to go on and on without any pause or break... that's because, apparently, FFN no longer accepts the sign (if it won't show that, it's three stars, made by pressing shift + 8). I use those as breaks between scenes, but I guess I'll have to find something else. But, yes, I just wanted to let everyone know that the chapter is not supposed to just run on and on like that. I'm trying to fix all this stuff, but FFN has changed a lot since I was last here. Again, if anyone can tell me of better archives for this little fic, I would be most grateful. If and when I post this fic in other locations, I will certainly let you all know. As of now, the only other place you can find the fic is at my yahoo group, HermioneFanFiction (link on my profile). .

For those wondering about The List... I'll say it once more. No, I did NOT create the list. I found it on the yahoo group WIKTT a very long time ago. There are many floating around, but the one I am using can be found at my yahoo group, HermioneFanFiction (link on my profile). It's in the files sections; you'll have to join the group to see it. I used to email the list out, but people who claimed to create the list would email me and yell at me for distributing their property without their permission, etc, etc. As it is beyond impossible for me to know who did or did not make The List, I'd rather not go through that whole thing again. Who can really say who created it? Certainly, even if we could somehow find the original creator, The List(s) have changed so much since then that it isn't even really the same list they created. So, for those who'd like to view the list, either google it (303 Ways To Piss Snape Off, or 404 Ways) or go to my yahoo group. At the end of this fic, I'll post the 99 tasks I used, just as a sort of recap.

**Disclaimers** The List is not mine. It never was. Alas, it never will be... Like I've said, this is out of character. Very out of character. That's sort of the point of the story. Just thought I'd let you all know.

**Annoying Professor Snape**

**Chapter 3 **Snapie?!

**The Continuation of Tasks 3 and 4**

**Task 5:** Nickname your quill 'Snapie' and talk to it during class

**Duration**: One class

"Professor Snape, can I have your autograph?" Hermione asked nervously, holding out a piece of parchment and a quill.

"Can you _what_?" Snape snarled.

"Your autograph, can I, um, have it?" Hermione asked, less sure of herself by the second.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on whom you were) Dumbledore was there, watching the scene with an amused twinkle in his eye.

"Severus, it seems you have a fan. I believe the young lady would like your autograph," Dumbledore informed Snape.

"My…autograph?" he asked, his tone disbelieving.

Hermione nodded and practically shoved the parchment and quill in his hands, eager to get away as soon as possible. She could hear giggles and snickers from people witnessing her embarrassment. She could only imagine the rumours this little scene would cause...

"Well, if I must," Snape snarled, regaining the use of his sneer, if nothing else. "Since it seems you are obsessed with me," he told her snidely, while signing her parchment.

"Oh, no sir," she told him, taking her signed piece of parchment and quill from him. "This isn't for me—it's for Lavender. She's the one obsessed with you," Hermione said loudly enough for all to hear. Then she turned and ran to her room, hearing Lavender shouting and running after her. The rest of the groups' laughter echoed in the hall.

Hermione reached her room and closed the door, but she could still hear Lavender shouting at her from behind it.

"That was a dirty trick, Hermione Granger! I can't believe you did that! How will I show my face?"

"Oh, clear off Lavender," she said, laughing at her friend and her dramatics. "If I can show my face after running out of the hall, shrieking at Snape's _spoon_, you can show your face after this!"

She heard Lavender sigh and then heard footsteps indicating she had left.

Hermione sank down into her chair, happy that she had her own room this year because she was Head Girl. Hermione looked at the parchment with Snape's autograph. There were two S's barely distinguishable in the scribble that was his signature.

Hermione shook her head, and wondered for the fiftieth time why she was doing this. She admitted to herself that it would be funny when they handed him the list on the last day of school at the leaving feast. It would be hilarious to see his face when he realized just what they had done. It would also be funny to hear Harry or one of the others talk about the list in their leaving speech. She also conceded that the two Galleons she was receiving from everyone at the end of the year after she completed all the tasks would be nice, though not necessary. But it was more than that. Hermione finally felt like she belonged.

She had never really been good friends with Lavender or Parvati. She had deemed Parvati a snob and had thought Lavender was only interested in Divination and make-up. Hermione had always been smart and somewhat bossy, and the three girls had never really had much to talk about. Hermione had told herself she didn't care that they didn't like her, that she didn't care that her best friends were boys who were more interested in Quidditch than their marks, but she had given that up in sixth year. It did matter, she knew, no matter what she told herself. But, now, her and Lavender and Parvati had things to talk about, and Hermione realized they were actually interesting people, in their own ways. Hermione actually regretted not finding that out earlier. It turned out Parvati was excellent in Transfiguration, so Hermione could always discuss the lesson with her. And Lavender was tied with Hermione for top of the class in Charms. It seemed the girls weren't airheads after all.

Now, Hermione fit in and had friends. She was part of a group, and Hermione couldn't deny that she had wanted that since her first week at Hogwarts. She didn't mind that some insane challenge had pulled them all together. The fact was that it had and they were all happy, they were all having fun, and they were all friends: and that's all that mattered.

**\\\**

The next two days passed uneventfully, except for the times Gryffindor table erupted into coughs and Hermione glanced at Snape and ran out of the hall.

_All in all_, Hermione thought, _it hadn't been that bad. Sure, it was a little embarrassing, running out of the hall like that, but no harm done._

Hermione smiled at Ginny who joined them at a table in the back of the Common Room.

"Finally. Gin, we thought you'd never get here," Harry told her.

"I know, I know, I'm late. It wasn't my fault though! Snape made us all stay after while he ranted at us about the importance of something being boiled. Or maybe steamed. Anyway, what's up?"

"Well, now that we're all here, I think it's time for—drum roll please," Lavender told Harry and Ron.

Ron and Harry beat their hands against the table in a poor imitation of a drum roll.

"The fifth task!"

"Great!" groaned Hermione.

"What _is_ the fifth task, Lavender?" Parvati asked, as if she didn't know.

"The fifth task is to nickname your quill 'Snapie' and talk to it during class," Lavender proudly announced.

"What? You're kidding, surely!" Hermione looked at the group. "But, he'll throw me out of the dungeons! Or give me detention," she could tell they weren't relenting, so she sighed and asked, "How long?"

"Actually," Harry said, "This one's only for one lesson."

"Guess you got lucky, eh?" Ginny smiled.

"Yeah, lucky," Hermione said.

Although not exactly the kind of luck she had been hoping for…

**\\**

"So Snapie, what do you think we'll have to do today in class?" Hermione asked while looking at her quill. It was the beginning of Potions—and the fifth task. "Snapie, I can't seem to find my homework…Oh, there it is."

Snape glared at the class, looking for the speaker. His gaze landed on Hermione, and his scowl deepened when he heard the word 'Snapie.' He seemed to be trying to ignore her and her remarks, looking anywhere but at her and her quill. He lasted for all of fifteen seconds, until Hermione started to speak again.

"Hmm," Hermione said, gazing at her quill, "I wonder what could be holding the class up Snapie."

Hermione could tell when Snape's patience ran out; he stood up and stalked to her desk, standing menacingly in front of it. "Miss Granger, _what _did you just call me?" Snape asked, his voice at its silkiest.

"Oh, I'm sorry, but I wasn't actually talking to you, sir," she answered him, looking genuinely confused.

"Then would you care to enlighten us as to who you were speaking with?"

"My quill, Professor," she replied, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. She even went so far as to wave the quill in front of his face.

"Your quill has a name?" he asked slowly.

"Yes."

"And what is that name, once more?"

"Snapie."

"Snapie?" At her nod, he continued, in a deceptively gently tone, "Miss Granger, why is it you are working so very hard to drive me mad?"

Hermione blinked up at him, an expression of innocent confusion upon her face. "Whatever are you talking about Professor?"

"Your quill's name is Snapie…my last name is Snape…do you see the connection?" He asked as though he were speaking to a small child.

"Actually, Professor, no, I'm afraid I don't see the connection," she paused. "However–and I don't mean to sound rude–I'm curious to know why you believe something I do would have anything to do with you. You seem to be under the impression that I'm obsessed with you. I can assure you, that is not the case. Although, _you_ seem to go out of your way to form connections between my actions and yourself..." Hermione let her voice trail off, her heart pounding, hardly daring to believe that she was actually speaking so to Snape, of all people! She was aware of the rest of the class staring silently at them in a mixture of awe and disbelief.

Snape glared at her before leaning down into her desk, ensuring he was eye to eye with Hermione. "Miss Granger, do not mistake me for an idiot. I am well aware of what is going on and I will not stand for it. I suggest you think long and hard before you continue your little games." He leaned even further towards her, his voice a mere breath against her cheek. "I assure you, whatever game you seek to play with me, I will always come out on top." With that, he stood up, straightened his sleeves, and turned towards his desk in a swirl of robes.

"Well, what are you lot waiting for? Get to work!"

Hermione prepared her potion, thinking hard. Could Snape really know what they were doing? She didn't see how. Yes, he could suspect that her actions were all a part of some game; that was really the only option that made any sense. But surely he couldn't know anything else, about the list or their plans. And what had he meant by his last line? She realized that, if Snape were to back up his threat (and he really didn't seem the type to make idle threats), she could be in trouble. Yes, she was good at magic, she could admit that as fact. But Snape...not only was he older and wiser, he was definitely more powerful than she. She had no doubt he would come out on top, like he had promised; in a game of cunning and wiles, he was a Slytherin. When all was said and done, she could never hope to match wits with him.

But still, she decided to enjoy the game while she could. Snape could have just been saying that to throw her off, make her afraid to continue. He might not have any intention of going up against her; after all, he was a teacher, and surely had a lot of work to keep him busy. Hermione knew her excuses were just that–excuses. But, truth be told, she didn't want the game to end. She was having more fun than she'd had in a very long time. And if Snape did decide to join in, well...

_The more the merrier..._

**\\**

**_To Be Continued..._**

**A/N: **Please read the author's notes at the top before asking questions in the reviews. And my profile, while you're at it. I may have already answered your question. And yes, we will get to see some Snape point of view; that's something else I'm adding. And I will keep posting on FFN, but since I hate the site so much, I'm looking for other sites that I (hopefully) won't dislike so much. There have been too many changes to FFN that just don't make the site any better.

One last thing... Please don't ask me when the next update will be, or tell me to update faster. My profile clearly states that I will post a new chapter once a week until we get to the new chapter (that would be chapter 15). From now on, those updates will happen every Monday, until we get to the newest chapter, of course (then it will be whenever I get around to it...). You can tell me all you want that I have to update faster, but since it won't have any effect, there's really no point. Again, a quick thanks for all your reviews!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, you guys are the best. Hope you're enjoying (or re-enjoying) my fic. And I love how so many people start their review with either LMAO, LOL, hahaha, or OMG.

In my oh-so-infinite wisdom, I just now realized that, if I were to stay on the current schedule of one chapter per week, it would be the middle of May before we finally got to the newest chapter. I decided that such a thing would just be plain cruel. So now there shall be two updated per week: one on Monday and one on Thursday. I can't give exact times for these updates, but afternoon seems to be the most likely time.

There are some new locations for this fic. The first is WIKTT's archive. The link is on my profile, since apparently, you can't post links inside the story on FFN. It will be pretty much the same thing as you're getting here, but at a different archive.

The second place is a bit different though. The fic now has its own blog, link also on my profile. Not only will there be the actual chapters on said blog, but a few extras. I'll post notes on each chapter (little things, like what I changed, why I changed it, etc); The List will be up there, hopefully sometime later this week (both the full list of 303 and the list I'm using, with just 99 ways); I may post various musings on characterizations (or the various out of character-ness that is rampant); and there is an FAQ that will be updated frequently. The questions for the FAQ will come from reviewers (i.e. you) and will go there, along with answers, of course.

Now, with all that out of the way, on with the fic!

**Disclaimers: **Very out of character, don't like it, don't read it, blah blah blah, you guys know the rest. The characters are not mine, never were mine, never will be mine, etc.

**Annoying Professor Snape**

**Chapter 4** Are you sure about those sweet words of temptation?

**Task 6 **Ask him if he's 'sure about that, sir?' whenever he states a fact in class.

**Duration **At least five times within one lesson.

**Task 7 **Should he ever sarcastically enquire if you would like a detention, hold up a hand and say 'I will not be swayed by your sweet words of temptation!'

**Task 8 **Sigh loudly whenever he walks away from you

**Duration:** During Hermione's first detention.

"Ask him if he's 'sure about that, sir?' whenever he states a fact in class!" Ron announced the sixth task proudly.

"Snape hates being contradicted! You _know_ he can't stand to have anyone question his abilities as a teacher!" Hermione complained.

"That's the whole point, Hermione," Parvati pointed out, exasperated. "This isn't supposed to be fun! For you _or _him."

"However, for us, it's a different matter," Harry pointed out.

"True, it's a lot of fun for _us_!" Ginny added.

"So," Hermione sighed, "how long does _this_ task last?"

"Only one class," Lavender answered.

"One?" Hermione questioned, suspicious.

"Well…Only one class, but…" Ginny trailed off. She was thoroughly enjoying her time spent with the seventh-years, and was fast getting a reputation as the sneakiest among them.

"But," Hermione prompted.

"Here's the thing," Parvati said, in her straightforward manner. "It's only one day, true, but you have to ask him at least five times within the duration of the class."

"Five times! He'll give me detention for sure!"

"I'm not entirely sure, Hermione," Lavender told her thoughtfully. "I mean, he hasn't given you detention for any of the other things."

"That's true," Harry pointed out. "Personally, I was damned sure you would get detention for the whole 'Snapie' thing," he laughed, thinking of the memory.

A chorus of "Me too's" joined the laughing.

"But, if he does…" Ginny started, an impish twinkle that Hermione did not like one bit in her eye.

"Yes?" Lavender asked, intrigued.

"Well, if he does threaten you with detention, we could move onto task seven."

"But task seven is—" Ron started, but Parvati cut him off.

"We _know_ what task seven is, Ron. I think Ginny has a different task seven in mind, which depends upon certain circumstances," Parvati informed him, quickly catching onto Ginny's plans.

"Exactly," Ginny stated.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked, intrigued in spite of herself.

"Well, you know how Snape is," started Parvati. "He never just out and _tells_ someone they have detention. Ever the acerbic teacher, he always sarcastically enquires if you would like a detention."

"So," continued Ginny, "should he ever 'sarcastically enquire' if you would like a detention, hold up a hand and say 'I will not be swayed by your sweet words of temptation!'"

Harry, Lavender, Ginny, and Parvati started laughing uproariously, while Ron started to look a bit green.

"Snape and temptation should not be within the same lines of thought," he announced.

Hermione laughed, even though she wasn't sure if she would ever be able to say that to the Potions Master.

_Temptation indeed._

_/\/\/\_

"The Anti-Inflammatory Potion was created in roughly the sixteenth century. The creator is unknown, and supposedly died while testing the first potion he created. He had, inadvertently, created the very potent Midnight Poison, so named because of the dark, rich colour and thick texture, and because it must be brewed at midnight. The creator's associate, a witch known as Ys, refined the recipe into the potion we use today," Snape lectured. "The potion, when applied to a broken or bruised bone will reduce the swelling and," Snape continued lecturing, but, for once, Hermione wasn't particularly listening.

Hermione looked around the room, and Harry nodded at her.

"Are you sure about that, sir?" Hermione's quiet voice carried easily across the now silent room. No one had ever dared question the Potions Master.

"Excuse me, Miss Granger?" Snape asked, his eyes narrowed and his voice dangerously soft.

"I asked if you were sure about that," Hermione answered more quietly, quickly losing her nerve.

"Are you questioning my ability as a teacher, Miss Granger?"

"No, sir, I did not question your abilities as a teacher, I merely asked if you were sure about that fact."

He ignored her completely, continuing his lecture. "Now, as I was saying, before being so rudely interrupted by the class know-it-all, this potion will reduce swelling and bruising, allowing a bone to be set easier. Also, should internal swelling occur, the potion may be ingested to keep the swelling down and—"

"Are you sure about _that_ Professor?" Hermione asked again.

"Still questioning my abilities as a teacher, I see."

"No, sir, I am just wondering if you are sure," Hermione said, in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner.

"Would you prefer to teach this class yourself?"

"What?" Hermione asked, startled. She idly wondered what he would do if she informed him that, yes, she would very much like to teach the class for him. She decided her punishment wouldn't be worth the look on his face, though it would be a near thing.

"Unless you are as deaf as you are insufferable, you surely heard me. Now, Miss Granger, answer the question," he stated.

"No, I don't want to teach your class. Sir," she added, after a slight pause.

"Very well then. Since you do not desire to teach this class yourself, perhaps you could cease your incessant interruptions so that your classmates may have the opportunity to actually learn something." He paused, as if waiting for her to say something, but she remained quiet. "You will begin the preparations for the Anti-Inflammatory Potion today. As it must be brewed in two stages, you will start stage one today. Stage two will commence the class after next. You must finely chop the first three ingredients; be sure to use your silver knives, as any other metal will have an adverse reaction with the delicate ingredients. Then–"

But again, Hermione interrupted, enquiring as to whether or not he was sure of that fact.

"Miss Granger!" he barked. He stopped, took a deep breath, and continued. "I am curious to know why you feel the need to question every other fact I state."

"Well, I," Hermione struggled for a plausible lie. "I was reading something in, um, _Potions Weekly_ about the effects of the Anti-Inflammatory Potion and—"

"No, Miss Granger, you did not! Fifteen points from Gryffindor for Miss Granger's horrible inability to lie. Ten for her being so unintelligent as to mention a non-existent article in a potions journal that every Potions Master reads in said lie. Ten more for her questioning a teacher," he paused, smiling nastily as his words sank in. "Honestly, Miss Granger, you should know that, as a Potions Master, I will read every credible Potions Journal available to me, and that would include _Potions Weekly._ I am beginning to think, Miss Granger, that you would like a detention," he said in his silkiest, most dangerous voice.

_This was it, _she thought. Raising her right hand, she stated, in what she hoped wasn't a voice shaking too badly from nerves, "I will not be swayed by your–your sweet words of temptation." How she managed to say such a thing to her Potions Master, she didn't know.

Everyone in the class stared at Hermione as if she had just grown a second head. The class was absolutely silent as her words sank in. Both the Gryffindors (minus Ron, Harry, Parvati, and Lavender, of course) and Slytherins exchanged glances, muttering that she was a goner. A few snickers were audible, as well.

Snape looked livid: his jaw clenched, his brows furrowed over glaring eyes, one hand clenched and the other in his robe's pocket, surely holding his wand and contemplating whether or not it might be better to just blast her into oblivion now and get it over with. "You will not what, Miss Granger?" Snape asked. Hermione started to open her mouth but it seemed Snape wasn't finished. "You will not 'be swayed' by my 'sweet words of temptation', is that it? Well, Miss Granger, if that will not sway you, perhaps this will help. You have detention with me for a week. How sweet is that, now, Miss Granger?" The class was silent. "In fact, sweeter yet, I think those detentions should be served with Filch. Class dismissed."

The only people who left the class laughing that day were Slytherins.

/\/\/\

"I think this is going too far, guys," Hermione told the group that night in the Common Room.

"C'mon Hermione, it's not that bad," Ron told her.

" 'Not that bad'? Ever the captain of understatements, Ron! I have detention for a week with Filch!"

"Well, what's the worse that could happen?" Ron asked.

"I don't even want to think about it."

"Look, Hermione, we never thought he'd get so upset. A week's worth of detention is tough," Harry said sympathetically. "We'll try and go through the tasks, see if there are any more that might set Snape off."

"Yeah, Hermione, don't worry," Parvati said, with a kind smile.

There was a tapping at the window suddenly, and Ginny went to let the large tawny owl in. It swooped down towards Hermione and dropped a note in her lap. Without bothering to wait for Hermione to open it, the owl left through the open window.

Hermione read the short note, and wasn't sure if it classified as good news or bad news. It was more on the bad side, in her opinion.

"What's it say?" Lavender asked.

Hermione sighed. "It seems Filch has to many people in detentions, so Dumbledore won't let him take any more. My detention is with Snape now. The first one is tomorrow at eight. Great," Hermione groaned, "just what I need before I go to sleep. Snape and whatever horrid punishment he has in store for me."

_Detention with Snape…it couldn't be worse._

_/\/\/\_

It was seven o'clock the next evening, an hour before her detention. The seventh year group, along with Ginny, was sitting about languidly.

Except Hermione.

Hermione was pacing in front of the group, wondering what Snape would make her do for detention.

"You realize, Hermione," Ron informed her, "that it is time for task eight, right?"

Hermione turned in a swirl of robes. "_What_?" she shouted, causing people to stare at the (barmy, in their opinion) group by the window. "I have gods only know how many detentions with Snape and you suggest another task?"

"Ron's right, Hermione. Task eight is to," Harry pulled a face, "Gods, this is…well, the task is to sigh loudly whenever he walks away from you. Sorry, mate, I can guarantee I didn't come up with this one."

Both Harry and Ron looked a little green, Ginny was trying very hard (and unsuccessfully) not to snicker, while Lavender and Parvati exchanged innocent glances.

"Fine," Hermione said. "It's not that bad, I reckon."

_Besides, its not like I have to actually _do _the task. How will they know?_

"Oh, and Hermione," Harry informed her, "Don't think of trying to skive off. The Marauder's Map."

"But you can't…oh."

They had found out, in their sixth year, that you could, with the proper incantation (_I solemnly swear that, while I am up to no good, I am not a voyeur. Show whom I ask.)_ the map would show them anyone in Hogwarts, as long as they weren't taking a shower, having sex, or naked in any way. The only thing the map showed in those circumstances was a blank page, with _Moony, Padfoot, Wormtail, and Prongs' _speculations on what the person was up to.

"I have to sigh loudly?" she asked. "That's all?"

"That's it," Parvati said. "Shouldn't be too hard."

"But what if he thinks I'm sighing over him, like some sort of love-sick schoolgirl?" Hermione asked, curling her lip in disgust.

"I hardly think he'll jump to that conclusion," Ginny said, laughing.

"I don't know," Lavender said seriously, looking thoughtful. "There are some younger Slytherin girls who have been sighing over him lately. And _not _because of an insane challenge."

"You're joking!" Ron said. "How could they– But he– Ewww!"

"Oh Ron, grow up," Parvati said.

"You agree with them, then?" Harry asked, his eyes wide.

"No, of course not. He's been horrid to me since I came here. Just because his looks are marginally better–"

"What?" Hermione all but shouted, cutting her off.

"You haven't noticed then?" Lavender asked.

"Why are we discussing Snape's looks?" Harry asked, as if to himself. He was ignored.

"Noticed what?" Ginny asked, curiously.

"His skin and hair aren't as greasy as they once were, for one thing," Parvati said.

"And his skin no longer has such a horrid yellow cast to it," Lavender pointed out.

"How is it you two are noticing so much about Snape?" Harry asked, only to be ignored once more.

"He's still pale, yes, but that's to be expected from one who lives in a dungeon."

"How can you be saying this?" Ron asked. "The man is a slimy, greasy, no good git!" He too was ignored.

"How can you not have noticed Ginny? Or you, Hermione?" Lavender asked.

"How _would_ I have noticed? I don't make it a point to study the man. I guess I just never really paid attention. The changes can't be that drastic, or surely others would have noticed by now," Hermione stated.

"He's a horrid piece of filth," Ron continued, oblivious to the fact that he was being ignored, "He pickles small animals and keeps the jars in his office!"

"Now that you mention it," Ginny started, "I think I know what you two mean. And Hermione, you're right; the changes aren't drastic. In fact, had Parvati or Lavender not said anything, I probably wouldn't have noticed either."

"And–and–his nose is big!" Ron yelled, aware he was being ignored but determined to make somebody listen to him.

"Well, you know what they say about men with large noses," Lavender said, winking and grinning mischievously.

Ron's mouth opened and closed but no words came out. He remained silent.

"But why do you think he's finally changed?" Hermione asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Parvati asked. "The war is over. He has the time, ability, and the will to make an effort. He probably feels the freedom as much as anyone else."

"More," Harry said softly. When everyone quieted and looked at him, he continued. "He was a spy, as you all know. Think about it. Who would have the least freedom while Voldemort was still a threat? He could do nothing without fear that Voldemort, his supposed lord and master, would find out and learn of his duplicity. He lived in constant fear of his life. Now that he's gone, Snape is probably enjoying his hard won freedom more than anyone. We all make sacrifices during war, of course, but I can think of few who made quite so many as Snape."

Everyone was quiet for a moment, lost in their own thoughts. Hermione knew there was no love lost between Snape and Harry. Harry–and even Ron–may have learned and finally believed that Snape was on their side, but that didn't mean they were suddenly friends. The only thing that had changed was now, in place of Harry's contempt, there was a grudging respect for the man who had done so much to help their cause. Harry and Ron might still refer to him as a 'greasy git' but they both remembered what he had done.

"Well, that explains it then," Parvati said. "Now that he has a chance at a normal life, he's making an effort. Good for him, I say."

"About time," Lavender agreed.

Hermione smiled to herself. She vowed that, next time she saw Snape, she would see if what Lavender and Parvati had said was true. Hermione looked at the clock on the mantel and realized she wouldn't have long to wait; her detention was in ten minutes.

"I've got to go," Hermione told her friends. "Wish me luck."

_**To Be Continued...**_

**A/N:** Yes, I know, it is a bit of a cliche to have Snape getting better looking. But, instead of cliche, I like to look at it as more of a humor!fic staple. There are some things a humor!fic must have (other than humor, of course...). These things seem to include, but are not limited to: Snape becoming better looking; questions concerning Draco's sexuality; Lucius not being The All Powerful Evil One, and perhaps even reforming; leather pants of some sort, usually on one of the male characters; Draco being redeemed through some heroic deed he performed during The War; Dumbledore not minding that the hijinks occurring in said humor!fic would and do effect classes, studying, other students, teachers...etc, and in fact, maybe going so far as to join in; a not-so-strict McGonagall, who may even turn out to be quite the party animal... The list goes on. Now, just because these seem to be unwritten requirements, does not mean that all of them will appear in this fic. A fair few, but (probably) not all of them.

If you have any more to add to the list, please do! Who knows, it may even end up in this humor!fic. Stranger things have happened...


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I have no idea if this fic will end with Hermione and Severus as anything more than friends. I have still not decided. I think, for now, I just need to let the story play out as it will. Right now, I'm leaning more towards friendship, where both parties have respect for the other, where romance _could_ occur...in the future. As of now, however, they are merely rivals.

As for making Mondays come faster... I tried as hard as I could but, alas, the days of the week bent not to my will. I suppose I'll have to content myself with controlling these fictional characters, rather than controlling days of the week.

The blog for this fic (link on my profile) will actually end up answering a lot of questions like this. Not only will I post the chapters, but I will post in depth notes on each chapter. And spoilers for upcoming chapters. Along with anything else I deem necessary. So, if you want more info, try there.

**Disclaimers: **Not my characters, not my list, not my world. But I do so love playing with them...

**Annoying Professor Snape**

**Chapter 5 Detention**

**Task 8 **Sigh loudly whenever he walks away from you

**Duration:** During Hermione's first detention.

Hermione began the walk down to the dungeons, readying herself for an evening with Snape. While she was upset that she had yet another task to complete, they had given her a break. Since he gave her detention, they told her she didn't have to ask if he was sure about anything else to bring the total to five. Well, she supposed she should be grateful for small favours, at least. She was also determined to see if Lavender and Parvati had been right about Snape's transformation. She had never noticed, but then, Lavender and Parvati had always been the type to notice such things. Hermione knew she was hopeless at that sort of thing; it had taken her two weeks to notice that Lavender had cut a good six inches from her hair during the summer before their sixth year.

Hermione neared the Potions door and hesitated. _Well, nothing for it,_ she thought, and knocked loudly on the door.

"Enter," Snape all but snarled.

Hermione cringed inwardly at the tone of his voice, knowing he was in a foul mood. But, then again, when was he not?

"So, Miss Granger, decided to show after all," he drawled, as if she would have decided to skive off.

She sighed inwardly. Who would dare miss one of Snape's detentions? Yes, she was Head Girl, but that didn't make her immune to punishments. She tried to study him unobtrusively, but didn't want to look too interested in his looks.

"So, our little Gryffindor _Head Girl_," he practically spat the words out, "has detention. And it's only the third week since school started. What a sparkling example you must be setting for the younger students."

Hermione frowned inwardly; was he trying to bait her? Well, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of getting mad at his words. Besides, why should she care what he thought? Even if she had thought of the same thing earlier herself.

"You're very quiet now that you're alone, Miss Granger," he said, glaring at her from his desk. "If only you were always so quiet, perhaps you wouldn't be serving detention now."

Hermione wasn't sure if there was anything to say to that; after all, it was true. She remained silent instead, sneaking quick glances at him from beneath lowered lashes.

Snape narrowed his eyes at her, before standing and handing her a stack of papers. "Look over these exams; you should remember the material from your first year. Do _not_ grade the papers; as I am the professor, that is my job alone. Do not go soft on any Gryffindors, either, nor harsh with the Slytherins. Mark answers that are wrong only and make no comments." He stared at her for a moment longer before saying, "Well? What are you waiting for, girl? Get to work."

Hermione sighed loudly as Snape walked away from her. He didn't seem to notice; if he did, he ignored it.

_Well, so far, so good. With any luck, he won't turn away from me at all!_

She tried again to get a good look at him while she was seated, but he had his head bent over his work and his hair was obscuring most of his face. However, she did notice that his hair didn't look quite so greasy. She couldn't be sure, of course, but it appeared cleaner than it usually did. It looked thinner and somewhat wispy, no longer weighed down by oil and dirt. It looked softer as well, though Hermione of course couldn't be certain it was; after all, she hadn't had many opportunities to touch Snape's hair.

When she had finished correcting the stack of parchments, she got up and set them on Snape's desk. That way, he wouldn't have a chance to walk away from her, and she wouldn't have to sigh loudly. She might even be able to sneak a closer look at him.

He sneered at the papers before tidying them and placing them in a neat stack on a corner of his desk. He stood up, leading her towards the back of the classroom. "These pieces over here need to be cleaned," he said, motioning towards various glass jars and beakers. "Be careful and break none of them; for every one you break, you shall add an hour to your detention." He turned away from her with a swirl of his robes. She sighed loudly as he stalked back to his desk. He glanced sharply at her, but she didn't notice, busy as she was sorting through the jars and flasks.

She washed the various glassware, being extra careful with each piece; she did not want to add any time to her detention if at all possible. When she was finished, she stacked each piece on the nearby shelves. She walked back to his desk where he was going over the papers she had corrected; he motioned her to sit in front of his desk, which she did, waiting for him to finish going over the paper.

She studied him as he worked. Now that Parvati and Lavender had pointed it out, his skin didn't seem to have that sickly yellow tint to it. Yes, he was still pale, but she didn't think he ventured out doors very often. Of course he would be pale. She also noticed that his skin didn't appear as oily as it normally did. He looked, for lack of a better word, healthy. She hadn't realized just how sickly he had looked until now, faced with a hale looking Snape.

He wasn't handsome, no, but vaguely striking. His face was all angles, from the hooked nose to the sharp cheekbones and even sharper chin. His hair was so dark it made his skin paler in comparison, and his lips looked positively crimson against the whiteness of his skin. His hair wasn't too bad; there was a lot of it, not thinning at all, a nice color, and a good length. She realized Lavender and Parvati were right; the changes were not big enough to be noticeable right away, but they did make a world of difference.

He raised his head from grading the paper and looked at her, studying her. Hermione wasn't sure what to do; had he realized she was staring at him? Why did he keep staring at her? But then it hit her: Snape was a skilled Legilimens! How could she have forgotten? Was he, even now, reading her thoughts? She tried to shield her mind, but wasn't sure how.

"See anything interesting?" she asked, before she could stop herself.

Snape's eyes narrowed in response, a flicker of surprise registering for half a moment upon his face. "There is nothing interesting before me _to _see." He remained silent for a moment, before chuckling and asking, in a derisive tone, "You think I'm reading your mind, don't you?"

"Aren't you?" she asked, raising her chin defiantly.

"No, as a matter of fact, I am not. Rest assured, Miss Granger, your thoughts are safe enough. A skilled Legilimens I may be, but even I am not so skilled as to enter one's mind without them being aware. When I read your thoughts, you will know it," he finished silkily. She noticed he used the word _when_, not _if._ He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "What thoughts are in your head, then, that would make you so nervous at the thought of me witnessing them?"

She thought hard, wondering what to tell him. Not the truth, of course. _Well, you see, sir, I'm involved in a contest of sorts to see how long it takes for me to drive you completely insane... Not to mention I just spent the last five minutes studying you to see if you looked any better than usual._ Yes, that would certainly go over well. "Oh, just the usual thoughts that run through an adolescent female's head," she said lightly. "Very mundane, I assure you."

"Be that as it may, Miss Granger. Perhaps, in time, I shall see exactly what it is you are hiding," he said softly, the subtle threat in his words quite obvious to Hermione.

"Perhaps," Hermione agreed airily. She tried to make light of the situation, but in truth, she was getting worried. Snape was more than capable of wresting her thoughts from her mind like an egg from its shell. She knew she stood no chance against Snape, not against an attack of Occlumency. She would have to be careful to never give him the chance to see her thoughts.

"You may go now, Miss Granger," he said suddenly.

"Sir?" she asked, confused. She had only been there for a couple hours.

"You may go. Leave. Vacate these premises. Get out. I am not sure how else to state it so that you may understand."

She nodded, getting up from her seat and smoothing her robes. She would not complain about such a short detention. Such a thing was surely on par with a gift from the gods. She had never heard of a detention with Snape lasting for anything less than three hours.

Hermione left his classroom, making her way out of the dungeons. She was soon climbing the stairs to the portrait hole; she gave the password (Canary Cream), and climbed into the Common Room. There were gasps of surprise from the group by the window, except for Harry, who appeared to be cursing Snape for something.

"Harry!" Hermione admonished when Harry muttered a particularly harsh word in front of a passing first year, who gasped in surprise and stared at Harry in awe. "What on earth has Snape done to _you_? I was the one with detention, remember?"

Harry looked up at her, surprised. Then he gave a sheepish grin. "Sorry, Hermione, didn't notice you. I was trying to get the map to work."

"What's wrong with it?" Hermione asked, wondering what had made the map malfunction after all these years.

"Well, it won't show Snape's classroom, private quarters—_not_ that I _ever_ want to see them—or his workrooms. The ugly, no good git must have charmed his rooms so no one could look in," Harry exclaimed, indignant that any teacher would charm their rooms so that mischievous students couldn't see in. "I mean," he continued, "the hideous prat couldn't be having a good shag, now could he?"

"Oh, great and glorious Gods above, help me!" shouted Ron. "Leaping lethifolds, Harry, why in the name of all that's sacred would you voice such a disgusting thing out loud? Gods, that's got to be one of the most revolting things I've heard all week! Snape and shag should never be within ten feet of each other, let alone in the same sentence!" Ron ranted, his face getting a tinge of both red and green, which made his face look quite different, what with the contrasting colours of green, red, and the orange of his hair, and the freckles that stood out against his skin.

Harry grimaced. "Sorry, Ron, now that you mention it, that was right evil and horrid of me to say that out loud. Sorry everyone," Harry apologized, biting back a smile.

"So, all the rooms are warded against things like this," Hermione said thoughtfully. _Not a bad idea, that. Might want to get that charm from Snape, as it might come in quite handy some day._ Out loud, she said with a smile, "He probably did it the moment he saw that thing in our third year. But, why would anyone want to look in on him?"

The group laughed, and asked Hermione how her detention had gone. She replied with the truth, telling them it hadn't been too bad. Of course, when asked how many times she sighed, her only answer was a sardonic "enough".

_91 tasks to go. I hope Snape's ready, because I'm not quite certain that I am._

With that thought in mind, Hermione made her way to her room, feigning tiredness. However, upon reaching her room, she realized the tiredness hadn't been feigned at all, and barely had time to change and push Crookshanks out of her way before falling onto the bed and into sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Yes, I do know that Potions classes will probably not be the same in 7th year as it was in 5th. Especially as, in their 6th year, we learn that Snape doesn't allow just anyone into his classes. By 7th year, I imagine Potions will be all four houses, with only the best of each house in the class. Which would probably not include Ron, Parvati, or Lavender; Hermione is a given and Harry is always the wild card. But, for this story to work (since so many tasks occur in Potions) it had to work this way. Let's all just pretend that, with the war over, Snape was forced to lower his standards.

**Disclaimers: **Not my list, not my characters, yadda yadda, you know the drill.

**Annoying Professor Snape**

**Chapter 6 Hiya Buzz**

**Task 9 **Accidentally call him 'Buzz' every now and again, for no good reason.

**Duration:** One week

**Task 10** Turn in all your essays on perfumed paper covered in scribbled little love-hearts

**Duration:** Rest of the year

**Task 11** Sneak up behind him. Go 'Boo!' and giggle and then walk away mumbling that you 'got him good'

**Duration: **Once

The rest of Hermione's detentions passed, more uneventful than the first had, especially as Flitwick, who had merely had Hermione help him to tutor some third years that were having trouble, had overseen the last two. Her Gryffindor friends had decided to let up with the tasks for that week, because they wouldn't be able to see them being completed, as it seemed that all the teachers had taken a page out of Snape's book and warded their classrooms. Which, in Hermione's opinion, was fine.

But, her respite could last only so long, and so the last week in September brought a new task. Task nine: _accidentally _call him 'Buzz' every now and again, for no good reason. Duration: one week.

Hermione grimaced as she walked out of her dormitory. It was going to be a long day, what with the task, a transfiguration test, and double potions with (who else?) the Slytherins.

It was with a tiny bit of anxiety that Hermione made her way down to the dungeons later that day. She had been fortunate enough not to have seen Snape at all that day, except once when he had rushed past her in the library, and when she thought she might have seen him out of the corner of her eye. Now that she thought of it, she could have sworn that she almost always seemed to see Snape out of the corner of her eye, or he would be rushing past her down a corridor, to turn the corner right as she thought she had seen him. But, she couldn't be sure, and the thought that Snape might be following her was absurd, so she pushed the idea out of her mind.

She arrived in the Potions classroom just before class started. Snape, ever the dramatic teacher, rushed in to the classroom just as everyone had sat down, his robes billowing menacingly behind him. He reached his desk, jerked his head to the side, and the door to the classroom closed. A couple Gryffindors sneered at Snape's attempt to show off, while the Slytherins smiled and preened.

"Everyone will come up here and hand in their paper to me personally. That way, I know you handed it in, and you cannot use that ridiculous excuse that you handed it in but I lost it. I will make it so that you brats are unable to blame your stupidity on anyone but yourselves. We'll start with Miss Patil and work our way down the rows. Whenever you're ready, Miss Patil; it would be nice if it were before the Leaving Ceremony, however."

Parvati glared at Snape and went to turn her paper in. He continued this until he got to Ron. When Ron turned his paper in, Snape muttered, "Rubbish" just loud enough for the class to hear. The Slytherins laughed, while the Gryffindors glared at him.

"Do stop glaring at me, Mr. Potter. Just bring me your paper," Snape told Harry, without once looking up from his grade book. Harry reluctantly stopped glaring and handed Snape his paper.

It was Hermione's turn next, so when Harry was seated, Hermione walked up to Snape's desk.

"What was your topic?" Snape asked her, just as he had everyone else, even though the topic was clearly described in her paper. She decided to start the task.

"Medicinal Potions, Buzz. The kind used in healing things from broken bones to colds to more life threatening diseases," Hermione told him, rushing her sentence so that Snape would, hopefully, not notice that she had called him Buzz.

Snape looked at her sharply. "What, Miss Granger?"

"I said that my paper was on Medicinal Potions, sir. The type used for—"

"Yes, yes, I know what they are used for, I _am _a Potions Master. Medicinal Potions, the last time I checked, was _my_ field, not yours. What did you call me, Miss Granger?"

"I have no notion of what you are talking about."

"Do not play dumb with me, Miss Granger. Although perhaps you aren't playing," Snape said silkily, loud enough for the class to hear. The Slytherins roared with laughter, while the Gryffindors sent sympathetic glances her way and angry looks at Snape.

"Look, _Professor_, I don't know what you are talking about, and I have no idea why you think I would call you anything. You seem to believe I think about you all the time, and come up with pet names for you. That is, most assuredly, not the case."

"I did not imply that, although I must admit that is what I was thinking. Certainly, so it would appear, you spend all of your free time thinking of how best to irritate me, rather than on your studies," he said, sneering at her paper.

"Well, then you thought wrong, as I do not spend any of my free time thinking of you. For that matter, I do not spend any of my _occupied_ time thinking of you either," Hermione informed him coolly.

"You may sit down now, Miss Granger," Snape snarled.

Hermione sat down with a small smirk to herself, thankful that she had got through the first day of the task relatively unscathed.

"Turn in all your essays on perfumed paper covered in scribbled little love-hearts," Lavender read, giggling.

"Great good Gods! _That _will certainly be fun," Hermione said sarcastically. The six Gryffindors had, once again, snagged their space in the corner, stealing all of the comfortable chairs in the Common Room and forming a loose circle. "Do I have to turn all of them in on paper like that for the rest of the _year_?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"No," Parvati paused, thinking, "I think just the minor essays. Anything worth more than one hundred points I would have to say use normal paper. And of course, if he threatens to murder your grade because of the paper, then stop. If he says anything the first time, it will probably be to say use _normal_ parchment in the future. After that, he'd probably threaten your grade. You can always say that you had run out and you had to borrow someone else's parchment," Parvati finished pragmatically.

"Well, I suppose that almost makes this task marginally better," Hermione said, smirking.

"But, we have a little surprise for you…the eleventh task!" Harry said gleefully.

"What?" Hermione cried, indignant.

"Well," Ginny said, "tasks nine and ten are somewhat long term…this is just a one time task."

"Do I dare ask what it is?" Hermione asked.

"Does it matter if you ask? We'll just tell you anyway," Ron teased.

"You're right," Hermione sighed, resigned to her fate.

"Sneak up behind him. Go 'Boo!' and giggle and then walk away mumbling that you 'got him good'," Ron announced, laughing hysterically.

"Oh well that will be just great."

"This will be fun to watch!" Parvati said loudly.

"What will be fun to watch?" Dean asked, walking over to them, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, uh, nothing Dean," Lavender told him.

"Yea, just a, uh, joke," Harry added.

"My brothers," Ron joined in.

"Oh, well those brothers of yours are barking lunatics, so I'll just stay out of this one if you don't mind," Dean told them, walking away.

The group just looked at each other and, once Dean was out of sight, burst into laughter.

**_TBC..._**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Thank you, everyone, for your reviews! I won't reply to them all here because, one: I'm lazy, and two: it would take up way too much time. However, if you ask a question or need something clarified, feel free to leave it in a review and I'll respond to you via the 'respond' button (which is a very handy feature which was _not_ here when I used to frequent FFN).

I hope to go back through the chapters and fix various problems, the first being the random things that FFN decided to not show (such as the asterisks I used to use to show scene breaks and links). I also want to fix the small typos that I've seen. But don't worry, I won't make any changes that may require you to re-read the chapter.

Check out the blog for this fic (link on profile) to read notes for each chapter. I'm a little slow so far at updating there, but I promise to get better.

Two quick things. One, Hermione will do all of the tasks. Or at least, _attempt_ all of the tasks. I can't say she will be successful all the time (although, this being Hermione, she may end up surprising us all), but she will certainly do her best on each task. As for the rivalry between Snape and Hermione... read on. It should help to clarify things a bit.

**Disclaimer:** Very out of character; don't like it, don't read it. I don't suggest leaving reviews that let me know that my characters are out of character. For one thing, I already know. For another, leaving that review does nothing but waste your time. However, it's your call. (This does not apply to those leaving reviews saying that the characters, while out of character, somehow manage to remain strangely in-character. As strange as it sounds, I know exactly what you mean...)

**Annoying Professor Snape**

**Chapter 7 Stalking Snape**

**Task 10** Turn in all your essays on perfumed paper covered in scribbled little love-hearts

**Duration:** Rest of the year

**Task 11** Sneak up behind him. Go 'Boo!' and giggle and then walk away mumbling that you 'got him good'

**Duration: **Once

It was the beginning of November. So far, she had been lucky with the tasks. There hadn't been any chance to jump behind him, there hadn't been any Potions essays, and there had really only been a couple 'Buzz incidents', as she privately called them. Snape's new mode of defence was to studiously ignore her, going so far as to not even look at her when she was speaking to him. Which was fine by Hermione.

That day in Potions, her luck ran out.

"You will all write three feet worth of parchment on the effects of adding flavours to various potions, thanks to Mr. Longbottom's abysmal attempt at flavouring a Dreamless Sleep Potion with vanilla, of all things, which, as all of you should know, will turn that potion into a Magical Itch Potion. Mr. Longbottom, as a result, will be spending an indeterminate amount of time in the Hospital Wing, scratching an itch that doesn't exist—except in the mind. Let that be a lesson to all of you. Dismissed."

Everyone had left muttering about the extra work. Hermione, however, was muttering for another reason. She would have to start task ten.

/\/\/\

She wrote the paper, and, if she did say so herself, it was one of the best papers she had ever written. The fact that it was on Lavender's perfumed, lilac coloured parchment with the dark hearts on it was…well, it was still a good paper, even if it was on paper that smelled like lilac and lavender.

Hermione got more and more nervous as she headed to Potions. What would Snape say? Would he rip the paper up in front of her eyes? Would he give her a zero? Would he just ignore her as he had been doing?

She sat down in her seat, silently hoping that Snape would just continue to ignore her. Snape had everyone turn in his or her papers, going seat by seat until he came to her. "Miss Granger," he called, his voice clear and even.

She walked up to his desk, holding onto her three and a half feet worth of lilac and lavender scented light purple paper with tiny hearts on it.

"Your paper," he said, indicating that she should lay it on the desk. She did, but before she could turn away, Snape stopped her by saying, "What is this, Miss Granger?"

"Erm, what, sir?" she asked, looking more than baffled.

"This…I hesitate to call it your paper, since it's on…amethyst coloured parchment," he unrolled the parchment, grimacing with distaste, "with little hearts all over it." He stopped, shook his head as if to clear it, tightly shut his eyes, then looked at her paper again. "It's still there. Why is your paper on coloured parchment covered with hearts?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft.

"I ran out of—"

He cut her off by saying, in an incredulous tone, "Is it _scented_ as well?"

"I, um, really wouldn't know, since it wasn't mine, Buzz, I had to borrow it," she said in a small voice, ignoring that she had—almost automatically—called him Buzz once more.

"Miss Granger! I must insist right now that you stop calling me that horrendous pet name! Right this instant, you will desist and you will erase the word 'Buzz' from your memory! Do you understand me?"

"I...yes, sir," she said, not daring to talk back to him.

"Now, I would like an explanation for this sickening, scented thing that is sitting on my desk." She remained quiet, thinking. "I'm waiting," he said, an edge to his voice.

"I ran out of parchment, so I had to borrow some," she said, hoping Snape would be tired enough of her to dismiss her without further questioning.

"From whom did you borrow this parchment?"

"Um…Lavender," Hermione said in a small voice.

"Miss Brown why did you…no, no I don't want to know. It's not just you, is it, Miss Granger? It's the whole group! I should have known. Well, you won't get me so easily; no you won't get to me easily at all!" Snape said, glaring at them with an evil and very disconcerting glint in his eye. "Because I will find out what you are up to, and then, then I will have revenge, and it will be sweet. Because, after spending seven years of your life here, you will be expelled, mere months before you graduate. And then, then we will see just who gets the last laugh," he finished, still glaring at all of them.

The class simply stared, at a loss for what to do. Was Snape mad? After years of teaching, had it finally gotten to him? It must have been too much stress, and he had just continued to grow steadily worse, until this outburst. No matter though; at least they would be rid of him.

"Dismissed," he snarled. "Not you, Miss Ganger, or you Miss Brown, or Miss Patil, or Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter. The rest of you, out! Leave your papers on your desk; I shall collect them when I am finished with this lot."

The five remaining students looked innocently at Snape, silently wondering if they could beat him in a duel, if it came down to that. If they worked together, perhaps they could…

"Sit down," Snape said, in his silky voice. "You will explain this...game... which has been going on the entire school year."

"Sir," Harry began, his leg shaking from nerves, "Hermione just ran out of parchment, and then had to borrow some of Lavender's. She didn't do it to purposely get to you, or whatever it was you were rant–erm, saying," he cut himself off before he could accuse Snape of ranting like a lunatic.

"He's right, sir. I ran out of parchment, and didn't have a choice but to ask to borrow Lavender's."

"Why, then, did she give you _this parchment_?" he sneered.

"I thought," she started, swallowed, then, thinking hard, continued, "I thought Hermione was writing a…a love letter, because she was sitting by herself, away from the rest of the group. I just figured that she must want privacy for something. When she asked for parchment, I told her that this was all I had, and to use it well." Lavender silently congratulated on her improvisation. She had never been terribly good at thinking on her feet, especially when confronted by Snape.

"Really? How very touching," Snape said derisively. "And yet, I know that none of you are telling the truth. No matter; you will all get what you deserve. Mark my words." He paused, glaring at them. "Well? What are you waiting for? Dismissed! Not you, Miss Granger."

The rest sent Hermione a sympathetic glance, but she noticed they did not slow their hasty retreat from Snape's classroom. _Gryffindor courage, indeed, _she thought.

She remained seated as Snape paced back in forth in front of her desk. She wasn't sure why he had detained her. Would he deduct points? Give her detention? Threaten her, yet again, with expulsion? She watched him pace; four steps one way, pivot, four steps the opposite way, repeat. His hands were clasped behind his back, his head bent, a look of deep concentration upon his face. He didn't look angry, exactly, but he certainly didn't look any less imposing for that fact.

He stopped abruptly, his head turning sharply to stare at her, his face unreadable. She raised her chin, meeting his gaze. It was small comfort that he had claimed she would know if he used his Legilimency against her; she might know if he was using it, but she had no defence against it. Yet, she sensed nothing, no foreign presence in her mind, so remained quiet, continuing to meet his gaze.

"You have no idea what you're playing at, Miss Granger." She almost jumped, his voice came so suddenly, sounding louder in the silence of the room. She continued to meet his gaze, though her neck was starting to hurt from the awkward angle. Snape seemed a lot taller when he was standing and she was sitting.

"Whatever do you mean, sir?"

"Do _not_ play the innocent with me. Deny it all you want, but cease with this act." His voice was low and stern, but not harsh. She did not know how to react, so she merely said nothing.

"I am not as oblivious as you would like to think, Miss Granger," he said. "I have deduced that there is some sort of contest or bet; that it concerns me is no big secret. I do not know why, though I can hazard a guess. I am, after all, the resident greasy git; who better to play such childish pranks on?" he asked. She felt momentarily ashamed to know that he was aware of his nickname amongst the students; how awful, she thought, to know just how disliked you truly were.

"But I will give you this last warning, Miss Granger," he said, his voice low and even, leaning down, his hands gripping the sides of her desk, until his face was level with hers. "Continue with these little games and I will be forced to retaliate. I could lie, and say that I would not find that pleasant, but the truth is this: I would find it pleasant indeed. Whether you would be of the same opinion, however, is doubtful."

She stared at him, his face inches from hers, and could read the truth of his words in his eyes. She knew he meant what he said and though the thought should have scared her, it did not. A small part of her, perhaps, but most of her saw the challenge. There was no one her own age who challenged her. Yet here was the chance to match wits with a Slytherin, a man older and more powerful than she. Such a thing would be dangerous and scary and everything she knew should not tempt her, but did. The thought was terrifying yet she could not deny the allure. In the end, she gave into the temptation.

"Well, Miss Granger?" he asked, moving a fraction of an inch closer to her. His eyes were on level with hers, his face a breath away. The incongruous thought that, should anyone walk into the dungeon at that moment, they surely would think Snape was about to kiss her, briefly crossed her mind.

"Why bother warning me?" she asked, the knowledge that she had already accepted his challenge making her bold. "Why not just give me detention and be done with it?"

"That is none of your concern. But I can see that you have not changed your mind. So be it." He straightened, glaring down his nose at her. "Do not say later that I did not warn you."

When he said nothing more, she asked, "If that is all, sir?"

"That is all. You may go, Miss Granger."

She nodded once before standing and walking towards the door. "Until later, Professor." Before he could respond, she was gone.

/\/\/\

Hermione found she was shaking once she exited the dungeon, though whether it was nerves, adrenaline, or both, she couldn't say. She found it hard to believe that she had just accepted Snape's challenge. She should have taken his warning to heart and stopped the tasks. Instead she had gone so far as to disregard his warning entirely and accept his challenge. What would the others say?

But she soon decided not to tell them. Not yet, anyway. Eventually, she would have to explain, but for now, the information was too new. She still could not believe she had found the courage to accept. Where had her bravado come from? She hadn't been the least bit nervous; apprehensive, perhaps, but not nervous. She couldn't imagine how she had found the nerve to stand up to Snape in such a way.

She tried to analyse her feelings towards the situation she now found herself in, but found she was unable to. She was still running on adrenaline now that the whole thing was over, making her want to giggle nervously and dance joyously, all at the same time. Deep down, she knew why she had accepted his proposal. She relished the chance to match wits with such a brilliant mind. It was the chance to go up against a Slytherin, to use power and cunning and all the skills at her disposal to see that she came out on top. That she would lose was almost a given; however, it was not about winning or losing. It all came down to the challenge.

There were no boys her age–and at that age, that's exactly what they all were, _boys_–capable of such a thing. The very thought that Ron or Harry could go up against her was laughable. They had their strengths, but they did not concern wit or logic. Snape, however, was not a boy. He was a man, and a powerful one at that. That he was a Slytherin made the whole thing more appealing; she supposed it was the natural Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry coming into play. Snape, she knew, would not disappoint. A challenge he had promised and a challenge she would get.

Though she knew she should be anxious or scared of what he might do, she could not bring herself to get over her excitement. Later, she would worry. Right now, she simply wanted to revel in the fact that she might just have found her match.

A sly smile upon her lips, Hermione made her way to her room. She had plenty of research to do if she wanted a chance to beat Snape at his own game.

/\/\/\

Later, she was walking down the hall with Ginny, Harry, Ron, Parvati, and Lavender. They were on their way to the library, to do some research for their N.E.W.T.s, Ginny tagging along from a lack of anything better to do. On the way there, Hermione stopped, seeing something black and shadowy out of the corner of her eye. She turned, but nothing was there. However, the feeling of being watched was. Hermione shook her head and continued to the library, trying to ignore the feeling. A small, annoying voice in the back of her mind insisted it was Snape watching her, but she ruthlessly shoved that tiny voice away.

When they were leaving the library, with an hour left until dinner, Harry stopped the group and pulled them aside.

"Hermione, there's Snape. Task eleven! Task eleven!" He said gleefully.

"Harry, maybe she shouldn't try this so soon after Snape's last outburst," Lavender said, concern in her eyes.

"No," Hermione said, smiling wickedly, "I think this would be the perfect opportunity for task eleven."

"Really?" Ron asked, surprised.

"Yes, really," Hermione said, that wicked smile never leaving her lips.

"Well, okay," Harry said, thrown off by that wicked—yet somehow sexy—smile that lit up Hermione's face. And what was that odd glint in her eyes? Excitement? Fear? Or something else?

Hermione watched as Snape finished his discussion with Flitwick, pushed away from the wall he had been leaning against, and then strode purposefully towards them.

The group started laughing and talking, while Hermione slipped away and crept behind Snape's line of vision. She was about five feet behind him when he stopped, turned toward the Gryffindor group, and snapped, "Ten points from Gryffindor for being so noisy in the halls."

By the time he had said 'Gryffindor', Hermione had snuck fully behind him. She was about to say 'Boo!' but Snape was quicker.

"Another ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for stalking me."

"_Stalking_ you?" Hermione yelped, surprised.

"That is exactly what I said, Miss Granger. You really must have your hearing checked."

"No, sir, my hearing is fine. The fact that you believe I—or anyone—would _stalk_ you was just surprising," Hermione said calmly.

"I suggest," he began, too softly, "that you do not argue with me, as I am most assuredly not in the mood."

"But, stalking you? I am not."

"Fifteen more points from Gryffindor for your arguments, Miss Granger. And for your information, anytime someone is sneaking up behind me, I consider that stalking. That is all."

Hermione started to say something, but Snape swept away, his robe billowing behind him. Hermione admitted, reluctantly, that the man had a sort of feline grace that was rather unsettling. Someone that tall shouldn't be able to walk so quietly.

Hermione sighed. "Well, there goes task eleven."

"That's okay," Lavender said, "there's still plenty left."

She would find another opportunity for task eleven, given the chance. Hermione just smiled that same, wickedly alluring smile, the glint returning to her eyes.

The glint, along with the slightly feral grin, reminded Harry of a predator who has sighted her prey. He almost felt sorry for Snape.

_Almost._

_**To Be Continued...**_

**A/N: **I changed things up a bit in this chapter. Last go around, there seemed to be some confusion as to whether or not Snape was actually going to wage his own little war against Hermione. I think this should clear things up a bit. I know I've said I'd write Snape's POV, but I haven't found the right place for it yet. Hopefully, we'll get a small look into his thoughts within the next couple chapters.

One quick note, I've finished chapter 15 and am hard at work on chapter 16. It is coming along quite nicely, if I do say so myself. Thanks again for reviewing!

One last thing: I am in **desperate** need of something to use as breaks between scenes, something that FFN allows. I've tried pretty much everything, and nothing is working. The asterisks don't work. Using the underscore doesn't work. The number sign isn't working. I need something that will work! Please help me. Thanks again. :)


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Thanks for your reviews! I've hit the 100 mark (and passed it!) and it's only chapter 8! Even though I'm pretty sure I hit that last time, it's still flattering. It's especially flattering to know that, years later, there are still people I recognize who are not only still in the fandom, but who still read my fic! Amazing.

Thank you everyone for your suggestion for breaks. I've combined a couple suggestions (wouldn't want to play favourites) and I think it will work nicely. As for using the page break bar that FFN may (or may not, never actually checked) have... That's far too easy. Actually, I'm just stupid and never even thought of looking for it. Oh well. Thanks again!

Also I just want to say that this fic may end up SS/HG. If you don't like it, I suggest not reading this fic. This goes specifically to a reviewer, who posted anonymously, that it "would be gross. He is old enough to be her dad." Well, you're entitled to your opinion, but if you don't like it, here's a novel suggestion: **Don't read it.** It really is as simple as that. I don't go around to your ships and call them gross, so I'd appreciate it if you showed me (and others who do enjoy the ship) that same courtesy. You don't have to like it, but there's no reason to bash it. And if you're going to flame my ship, at least have the courage to sign your review. That said, please keep in mind that all flames will mainly just serve to amuse me. Thanks again to everyone who has been kind enough to leave a review that didn't serve mainly to bash HG/SS. You guys are the best.

One last thing I have to point out, just so that everyone understands. This is _not_ a Snape-bashing fic. I like Snape, I think he's a very complex and interesting character. Granted, he isn't acting very canon-y in this fic, but I still like him. So, if you're expecting a Snape-basher of a fic (and some people were, last time around) you will be very disappointed. Just thought I would let you all know that yes, Snape might have some rough times ahead, but this fic's main purpose is not to bash him.

**Disclaimers: **The usual disclaimers apply. I must also add that the articles were not written by me. I did not change anything in the articles, except for some minor typos. Any other mistakes are not mine. During the fic's first go, I asked readers to send in articles (and for later purposes, poems) for use in this task. The contributor's names and other pertinent information will appear at the bottom of the chapter (in the author's notes). If I ever need other such material, I'll be sure to let you all know. But as of now, I have everything necessary to write this fic.

**Annoying Professor Snape**

**Chapter 8 Snapish Articles**

**Task 12 ** Anonymously Owl him random articles from Muggle publications. Attach notes to them stating that he should 'study these carefully. They contain clues.'

**Duration: **Randomly throughout the year

The fact that tasks ten and eleven hadn't gone as well as planned did nothing to diminish the Gryffindors' spirits, though it did give Hermione a brief respite while the other five members of the group tried to find a task or two that wouldn't get her into trouble. Well, one that wouldn't get points deducted from Gryffindor. Well, not _too_ many points, at any rate.

In the middle of November, her respite was over. The culprit: task twelve.

"Announcing," Harry said, an impish grin on his face, "task number twelve!"

The other four cheered, while Hermione smirked, waiting for the announcement.

"Task number twelve is," Ron said, "to anonymously Owl him random articles from different publications. You must attach notes to them, stating that he should 'study these carefully. They contain clues.'"

"Any publication?" Hermione asked

"Well, a Muggle publication would work best. But," Lavender said, "since he knows you're Muggle born, he might suspect you. Well, suspect you more than usual, that is."

"You could make the articles up," Ginny told her.

"Or we could," Parvati said, a wicked gleam in her eye.

"Or they can come from any old Muggle or Wizard publication," Harry informed her.

"Hmm," Hermione said thoughtfully, "you know, this might be the best task yet!"

-99-

The next day was Saturday, giving the group a chance to find some articles.

"How many should I send at one time?" Hermione asked.

"I would say only one or two," Ginny told her.

"Is there a total I have to send? How long does this task last?"

"It lasts," Lavender told her, "all year. Every couple of weeks, you should send one or two."

"Here's one," Harry said triumphantly. "Here, I'll read it aloud. It's from _Witchy Weekly_.

"What women do and don't like about men's hair," Harry began. "_We here at _Witchy Weekly_ have been talking to different young women around the world. What do these ladies like or dislike about men's hair? Well we sure found out. Nobody likes a grease ball_," Harry's voice was thick with laughter. "_Women can't stand it when their guy's hair looks like somebody dug up an oil well_."

"What is this rubbish?" Lavender asked, although she was laughing as well.

"I'm not finished yet. _'Why can't guys just spend the time like we do to make their hair look good?' asks seventeen-year-old Tanya Sutters. Well it just seems guys don't care. We recommend the new 2-in-1 Magical Masterpiece for men. No more will your hair look greasy guys! Just try it and see how your hair turns up. Take it from some of the girls; long brown curly hair isn't easy to take care of, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't wash it. Like I said before try the new 2-in-1 Magical Masterpiece shampoo and conditioner and you will see changes," _Harry finished the article, barely suppressing his mirth.

"Oh, that should go over well with our dear Potions Master," Parvati said, a glint of amusement in her eyes.

"I'm sure it will," Hermione murmured. "When do I send it?"

"Breakfast!" Harry and Ron said at once.

"Yes, then he'll open it in front of everyone. Hopefully, it will produce an amusing reaction," Ginny said, smiling.

They continued searching until Lavender said with triumph, "I found another!"

"_According to an anonymous tip, the Brooklyn police staged a raid on the lower city sewers in an attempt to find a large gathering of witches. The leader of the operation, who requests to maintain his anonymity (and which this author gladly gives him in exchange for such wonderful information), states that the witches were found in an orgy, dancing in the mouldy, rotten sewers."_

"What the bloody hell?" Ron asked, his face showing equal amounts of disgust and laughter.

Lavender continued _" 'I… It was just so…' he says, unable to complete the sentence due to his frequent shuddering and vomiting._

"_Witches, who are suspected to be the reason for much of Brooklyn's frequent and violent crimes, are older (at least in their mid-30s), usually have greasy hair—from standing over their flaming cauldrons—and are found to wear black more than any other colour, although grey is their second choice_."

Lavender paused for a second, catching her breath.

"_Psychologist Robert Sims says that 'the choice of the sewers for their orgy is quite obvious. They are trying to raise the dead rats and bats and alligators that are down there and call them to do their evil bidding on the unknowing populace above.' Waving his cigar around in this author's face, he finishes, 'They really ought to not be so predictable.'_

"_In the past few months, there have been rumours of a growing population of witches who congregate in the sewers, calling the dead to do their evil doing. Their leader, a witch named Wallyworn, has been known to show her face at the site of the more gruesome crimes, telling of a new era coming, when evil shall triumph over good, and all men with greasy hair will die a horrid death at her hands._

"_Of course, this cannot be confirmed, as all who hear her are dead within two hours."_

"Oh my goodness," Ginny said, "that was the most rubbishy thing I've ever heard!"

"I agree," said Harry, "and I reckon Snape will too."

–99–

Snape was in his quarters, pacing a well-worn path across the stone floor of his sitting room. His hands were clasped firmly behind his back, his head lowered, his brows furrowed in concentration. He took five steps forward, pivoted, took five steps then repeated. It was something he had done ever since he could remember–pace while trying to work through a problem. However, it seemed there was no ready answer to this particular problem: Hermione Granger.

He thought back to his last conversation with the girl. It had been two weeks ago, give or take, and she had ceased the random idiocies he had come to loathe. He hadn't heard the name Buzz uttered, she had failed to name any more of her quills, and she had–_thank heavens!–_stopped shrieking at the sight of his spoon at meal times. At least, he thought it had been his spoon that caused such a reaction. It certainly seemed to be the only variable that remained consistent through each episode, though, of course, he couldn't be certain.

Through discreet enquiries, he had been able to ascertain that nothing out of the ordinary was occurring with her other professors. She was still their little darling. Which left him with only one conclusion: she had singled him out, purposefully. Not surprising, really, when he thought of it. He had not exactly endeared himself to her or her friends. Or anyone, for that matter; though the Slytherins did, of course, seem to enjoy his favouritism.

He had gone to Dumbledore with complaints, claiming that Miss Granger was interrupting class time and meal times, not to mention driving him mad. But Dumbledore did not heed his remarks; he simply made excuses for the girl, as he always did concerning any of his precious Gryffindors. His words–his _exact_ words–had been to "take care of the matter" as he saw fit. No doubt, the old man had meant deducting house points or doling out detentions. But, as Snape now realized, the situation had gone beyond meriting a mere loss of house points (though, truth be told, he would take–and relish–any opportunity to do so). And Dumbledore had almost given him carte blanche to do whatever he wanted, short of harming the girl of course.

He still couldn't say what had prompted his decision. He had threatened the girl with a reprisal of a similar manner, but hadn't intended to go through with it. For one thing, it was not exactly fair; a young Gryffindor witch was hardly a match for a Slytherin in his prime. For another, he was her teacher, and such a means of punishment, while not unprecedented, was hardly by the book. Add to that the fact that he had far better things to do than waste his time teaching a slip of a girl a lesson...

But then, after his warning, she had not ceased her games. If anything, he could have sworn she had increased the level of madness. Turning in a paper on _scented parchment_ of all things! He had warned her, but she had not heeded him. That she would disregard such a warning from a man clearly not inclined to give idle threats made him seriously consider that which he had offered. Teaching her a lesson would not be a bad thing. If he managed to beat her at her own game while teaching her said lesson, well, so much the better.

But, he knew, he would have to be circumspect. Nothing dangerous, nothing that could be linked to him later, nothing overt. He was a Slytherin, after all, and well practised in the fine art of subtlety. He still was not certain whether she would continue her game; she hadn't exactly told him she would stop during their last conversation, but he would give her the benefit of the doubt. For all he knew, she could have later decided that he was right. He had done his utmost to impress upon her his own seriousness and truthfulness. She may well have decided that he was not a wizard one crossed without a thought. Even now, she could be deciding to end her game, to bow out while ahead...

_And pigs might yet fly..._

_**To Be Continued...**_

**A/N:** Well, there you go, Snape's point of view. I finally found an appropriate spot for it. However, this will not be a regular occurrence, I must warn you all of that. Do not expect Snape's point of view every chapter, or even every other chapter. This is very much a rare thing; once per 8 chapters sounds about right. While there are other POVs besides Hermione's throughout this fic, they are not common. Every once in a while, you may notice a small Harry POV, or a more omniscient-type POV (which, actually, we see next chapter), but otherwise, this is mainly a one POV fic. Thanks again for reviews.

**The Witches In The Sewers article was submitted by: **(FFN pen name) Hasapi.

**The first article was submitted by: **Ms. Dwyn Snape.

I must point out, however, that as this chapter was first posted at least three years ago, these people may or may not still be around in the fandom. I know hasapi took a break a couple years ago, but whether or not they ever returned, I have no idea. Please do not ask me anything more about these people (or future contributors) as I simply have no further information about them. All my notes were lost long, long ago.

In case you didn't read the Author's notes at the beginning, this fic may well end up HG/SS. Don't like it? Don't read it. It really is that simple. Thanks again.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. Brownie points for all of you! Thank you also to those of you who are reading, but maybe not reviewing. I'm glad that I'm able to reach so many people, both those new to this story and those who read it before. I still sometimes find it hard to believe so many people are reading and enjoying.

If anyone is reading this who also posts at the WIKTT archives, I'm wondering if you can help me with their posting process. Just leave it in a review that you post there, and I'll respond. Or email me at perfumejunky hotmail dot com (without spaces and replacing the dot, obviously).

**Disclaimers: **Usual disclaimers apply.

**Annoying Professor Snape**

**Chapter 9- Is 'knowing' enough?**

**Task 13** Tell him that you 'know'. Tap the side of your nose and nod knowingly.

**Duration:** Every couple weeks

The articles were Owled the following morning by Lavender, who had been 'volunteered' to wake up early and make sure the articles would be delivered at breakfast. By the time the rest of the group was awake, Lavender had returned, smiling mischievously and looking quite Slytherin.

"Well, then," Harry said, grinning at everyone, "shall we go down to breakfast?"

"Let's hurry! I want to be as close to the Head Table as possible!" Parvati said impatiently, making her way towards the portrait hole.

Still laughing, the rest of the group followed her. When they arrived in the Great Hall, they found it was relatively empty yet, save for a few younger students with earlier classes. Sitting closer to the Head Table than they usually were accustomed to, they tried to have a normal conversation without looking at the Head Table _too_ often. Which, for Hermione, was easier said than done.

Hermione had agreed to the bet, the dare, the challenge, the others had proposed, to piss Snape off, ninety-nine different ways. But then, she had surprised even herself by proposing another challenge—to herself. She was going to make the best of this dare. Better than that, she was going to have fun. Yes, she was going to have fun pissing off the dour Potions Master.

She had argued with herself about the pros and cons of this newer and maybe even harder (but definitely more amusing) aspect of The Challenge. It was silly, she reckoned, arguing with herself, but it was something she had always done, and it usually helped her to come to a decision. After an hour of sleeplessness and with her pros and cons getting madder and madder, Hermione had abandoned her argument and simply accepted The Challenge she had made with herself. She hadn't questioned it; in fact, she had forbid herself to do so, telling herself that she needed to stop questioning every little thing and simply _do_ something every once in a while. No thinking, no worrying, no regrets—just _doing_. And now, in Hermione's opinion, was as good a time as any to start.

Snape swept in to the hall unexpectedly, his robes billowing behind him in a very Snape-like fashion, one, which Hermione was sure, would _never_ work for her. Pity.

The group looked at each other and, except for Lavender, who quickly stifled her giggle (which, Hermione supposed, was hastened by the sharp elbow to the ribs Parvati had so expertly administered), no one said or did anything out of the ordinary.

Snape glared at them anyway.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, the post arrived. A quite normal looking, unobtrusively plain owl dropped the two articles at Snape's table. Snape, looking somewhat perplexed, unfolded the note that read: 'Study these carefully; they contain clues.' He looked around then, he brows knitted in concentration. The group retained their mien of normality, eating and talking as though everything were ordinary. When Snape's sweeping gaze had left them, they kept talking, but continued to look out of the corner of their eyes, waiting for his reaction to the first article.

Unrolling said first article, Snape looked at it impassively. However, a muscle in his jaw seemed to be ticking, though whether it was because he was trying to hold back laughter or because he had been clenching his jaw was hard to tell from their seats. His eyes narrowed, and he tried, unsuccessfully, to inconspicuously finger his hair, looking at it from the corner of his eye. Thinking no one had noticed, when of course the six Gryffindors had, he rubbed his hair, seemingly to check its...greasiness. Hermione barely choked back a laugh.

He read the second article then, leaving his hair alone for the moment, while his lip curled in what could only be disdain. _Must be the one about the witches in the sewers,_ Hermione thought, her own lip curling in dislike, an unlikely rendition of Snape's.

With his wand suddenly in his hand, Snape lit the articles on fire. A great puff of smoke appeared and, when it cleared, the papers were burning quickly. The rest of the professors gave Snape questioning glances but it seemed they found nothing unusual with his behaviour. He ignored the professors and continued to eat his breakfast as though nothing had happened.

It was clearly, to Hermione at any rate, a warning signal to those who had sent the note, though why he thought they were in the Great Hall she was unsure. Well, no, she wasn't actually; Hermione knew that he thought it was them, and his suspicion was, most certainly, not misplaced.

Hermione, of course, planned to disregard the warning. And, she had a feeling that Snape, inexplicably, knew _that_ too.

-99-

Task thirteen came soon after: tap the side of your nose and nod knowingly, telling Snape that you 'know'.

"What do I know?" Hermione asked the group.

"Well, nothing," Harry said. "But Snape doesn't know that."

"Yes, but—" Hermione started, and then closed her mouth. She had made a deal with herself: no thinking, no worrying, no regrets—just _doing._ "When do I start?" Hermione asked, a smile playing about her lips.

"As soon as possible," Parvati replied, with a smile of her own.

-99-

At the end of an unusually uneventful Potions class, Harry 'accidentally' knocked over Hermione's supply of dried dragon scales, giving Hermione a chance, albeit a very unsubtle one, of attempting task thirteen.

Harry winked at Hermione and, seeing Snape glare at them, bent down to clean up his mess.

"Could you be _any_ clumsier, Potter?" Snape asked, in a deceptively mild tone.

"Sorry, sir," Harry replied, though his tone indicated that he clearly wasn't sorry at all.

"Well, Miss Granger? Are you just going to _watch_ Potter clean that up?"

Ducking her head to hide her blush, Hermione bent down beside Harry and helped him.

"Do it already," Harry whispered to her.

"I will," Hermione whispered back. "On our way out."

Knowing it would look suspicious if Hermione took too long to clean the mess, since most people fled the dungeons once Potions classes were finished, she didn't try to dawdle. The mess finally cleaned, Harry replaced the dragon scales to their rightful shelf, giving Hermione an opportunity to inform Snape that she 'knew'.

"I know," Hermione said, in a rather loud stage whisper. Tapping the side of her nose and hoping she didn't look _too_ silly, she winked at him as well.

"Is there something in your eye, Miss Granger?" Snape asked, narrowing his eyes.

"No, sir, I'm fine," she said in a normal voice. However, in another loud whisper, she repeated, "I know. Don't worry though," she added, once again tapping her nose, "it's safe."

"What is safe? Your nose? Is that why you're tapping it?" Snape asked, looking genuinely confused. "And what is it you know?"

Wondering if it was worth it to continue, she held back a sigh and said, "It's okay. I know. That's all I can tell you."

"What on earth are you talking about? Are you sure you're quite all right?" Snape asked, sounding more like he wanted Hermione away from him than from any real concern for her.

Harry cleared his throat at that moment, saving Hermione from any more potentially embarrassing comments. Not bothering to answer Snape, Hermione and Harry left the classroom at a brisk walk, Harry fighting to keep his laughter contained and Hermione fighting the urge to slap him.

_So, _Hermione thought, _is that your tactic? You'll ignore me and this game we've got going? So much for your little warning. We'll see how long this lasts. And, ultimately, we'll see just who wins this game._

-99-

Hermione sat in the library with the other Gryffindors, unable to shake the feeling that she was being watched. Looking around the library—_again_—Hermione tried, unsuccessfully, to find whoever was watching her. Shaking her head and hoping the feeling would go away, Hermione didn't notice the flowing, black robe as it swished out of the library's door; nor did she notice the man who, before disappearing out of sight, sent one, unreadable look towards the Head Girl.

No, Hermione didn't notice. But it didn't escape the notice of the Head Master, who did nothing more than smile enigmatically to himself and send a quick nod to the cat who was perched upon a bookshelf. The Deputy Head Mistress ignored the Head Master, instead looking away from him to study the now empty doorway. When she thought he wasn't looking, Minerva returned the nod.

His smile widening, Albus left the library whistling.

_**To Be Continued...**_


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Thank you for all your reviews, even though I haven't been able to read them. No idea why, but FFN won't allow me to see any of the reviews for chapter 9. And when I try to use the review filter, chapter nine isn't even an option. So apparently, according to FFN the chapter doesn't exist for reviews or something. Just another reason why I love this site so much (eye roll). I tried looking for some sort of help page, but gods forbid they have one of those. It might actually make things easier, and we can't have that.

Anyway, thank you to all those who did review. If you left a question, that's the reason I didn't respond; I couldn't. Hopefully, it will let me see the reviews for this chapter, and maybe that will make the reviews for chapter nine visible.

**Disclaimers: **Usual disclaimers apply.

**Annoying Professor Snape**

**Chapter 10- Her name is Minerva**

**The continuation of Tasks 12 and 13**

**Task 14** Set up a shrine to him. Somewhere very public.

**Task 15 **Present him with a pet baby bunny rabbit every few weeks. Tell him each  
one is called Minerva

**Duration:** Every few weeks

It was the end of November when the other Gryffindors told Hermione the fourteenth task.

"I have to set up a shrine? For Snape?" Hermione asked the group.

"Yep," Ginny said gleefully.

"A...shrine," Hermione said, disbelievingly. Sighing, she said, "Well, what does one put in a shrine?"

The group looked at each other before Ron said, "Dunno."

"Well, that's certainly helpful," Hermione said sarcastically.

"Maybe you could put up pictures of him," Parvati suggested.

"Yeah, but what else? She can't just post pictures of him," Harry rationally pointed out.

"How should I know? I've never made a shrine before," Parvati said.

"Hmmm. What about some candles and incense?" Lavender asked.

"What for?" Ron asked.

"Well, shrines are usually used as places to worship someone or something," Ginny said.

"Oh nice," Ron groaned. "We're creating a place for people to _worship_ Snape!"

"Well, it's not like anyone is going to _use_ the shrine," Parvati pointed out, exasperated.

"So, pictures of Snape, candles, and incense?" Hermione asked. "Is that it?""There should probably be an altar and something to put the candles and incense on," Lavender told them.

"Well, we can set it up in a niche somewhere, maybe on a window seat or something. We can easily find a simple altar, or use a large stone or something. Candles and incense should be easy enough. But where on earth are we going to find pictures of Snape?" Hermione wondered aloud.

"Wait just a second," Harry said, frowning. "Did you say 'we'? Hermione, this is _your_ task."

"No, I am _not_ doing this alone. I don't care about the other tasks, but I _will_ get your help with this one," Hermione said quite firmly, looking very much like McGonagall at her sternest.

"Well, I guess so..." Ginny said, uncertainly.

"Sure, we'll help," Parvati told her, looking as though she would rather do anything other than set up a shrine to Snape. Which was probably true.

"Wait. Where _will_ we get pictures of Snape?" Lavender asked.

"Someone could take some pictures," Ron proposed.

"Are you volunteering?" Harry asked with a grin.

"'Course not," Ron said, "But I'm sure we could bribe a younger student into doing it. Or Colin Creevey. He's always taking pictures anyway."

"That's true," Parvati said. "We might be able to bribe Colin into it."

"I don't know," Hermione told them. "It seems rather unfair to get Colin to do it, when he'll almost certainly get detention."

"Well, we won't tell him _that_, obviously," Ron said, rolling his eyes.

The group sighed.

"Yes, but what else will be in the shrine? Just pictures and candles and incense?" Ginny asked them.

"Maybe a Snape figure?" Lavender asked hesitantly.

"What, like a doll?" Harry asked with a frown.

"What else is there?" Parvati pointed out. "Personally, I don't have a clue what to put in a shrine to Snape. Shrines are usually just places to worship. They might have a place for an offering, or maybe a statue."

"Yes, but this is supposed to be funny. It's not supposed to be an actual shrine. Nobody will worship there. It doesn't have to be authentic," Ginny reminded her.

"So...a Snape doll, some pictures of him, incense and candles," Harry listed the items. "Should there be anything more?"

"I think there should be, but what else?" Hermione asked the group.

"Also, just where do you propose we get a Snape doll?" Parvati asked them logically.

"Oh. Didn't think of that," Lavender said. "We could make one, I suppose."

"I reckon we're going to have to. It's not like we can just run down to Hogsmeade and buy one, after all," Ron said, grinning.

They all laughed, but quieted when Harry began talking.

"Any ideas of what else to include?"

"It should be funny," Ginny added.

"How about some poetry!" Parvati said laughing. "Really _bad_ poetry, dedicated to Snape."

"Oh my," Ginny started giggling. "_Bewitch the mind, ensnare the senses, that's what Potions Masters do. Sexy while you bottle fame, Severus Snape I love you."_

The group started laughing loudly at that. Harry was rolling around on the ground, gasping for breath, while Ron seemed to be fighting an inner battle; did he want to laugh, or be violently ill?

"This should be quite interesting," Parvati said, once she caught her breath.

_It certainly should_.

-99-

While Hermione and the rest of the group were waiting for Colin to bring them the pictures he had managed to take, it was decided that they would send another couple articles.

"I made one up," Ginny proudly announced.

"Really? Let's hear it then," Lavender said excitedly.

"Okay, here goes," Ginny cleared her throat and then began. "Hogwarts' Potions Master wins Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award," Ginny said clearly, while the rest of the group giggled. "Yesterday the three thousand witches who came to watch the yearly awarding of Witch Weekly's most charming smile award, were in for a surprise. Not Gilderoy Lockheart was to win the award this year, but who else than our charming Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—Professor Severus Snape, the most idolized bachelor of the wizarding world," Ginny read, trying to hold back her giggles.

"Not bloody likely!" Harry cried.

" 'He's such a hunk!' swoons one of Severus' former Slytherins, 'I could never pay attention in Potions classes because I was busy looking at him!" Ginny read in a high-pitched squeal. " 'All the girls in Hogwarts had a crush on him, but he never even looked at us!' 'There is no doubt in any of our hearts that this outwardly cold, unfeeling heartbreaker is really a gentle, loving man,' says her friend, 'I heard once that he had five little kittens as pets!'"

"Kittens?" asked Parvati incredulously.

"Yes, Professor Snape's beautiful smile and good heart are legendary among the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We congratulate you, Severus, on the honour of receiving this award, and hope that you will continue charming young ladies' hearts with your beautiful smile and generous being!" Ginny finished.

"Oh Snape will love that!" Ron said. "Bloody grand, that is, Ginny."

"Definitely," Harry agreed.

"I found one, though nowhere near as funny as that one," Lavender said. "But it is quite...interesting."

"Go on then."

"Right. Sek-chu Alley—spelled S-E-K-C-H-U," Lavender added for their benefit, "has a new shop down the block. It contains all of your favorite magical arousal herbs and potions and sensual oils. Look around at our wide selection of silk, lace, and leather apparel. Explore our aisle containing playful nighttime toys and devices. View our magical movies for the daring. Stop in today and receive a 50 discount on all clothing."

"I can't _wait_ to see his face when he reads that!" cried Hermione.

"Where is this?" Harry asked innocently.

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him, but looked at the magazine and said, "Looks like it's near Diagon Alley. Why, thinking of stopping by? Perhaps you're looking for something daring?"

Harry blushed but stammered, "Erm, no. No, not at all. Just wondering."

"I'm sure," Hermione said, smirking.

"Well, I think perhaps Harry should wake up and send these early tomorrow, how about you guys?" Parvati said.

Everyone agreed, so it was decided that this time Harry would owl the articles.

-99-

"We should probably start making the Snape doll," Lavender said that night after dinner.

"I suppose so," Parvati replied.

"Anyone here know how to make a doll?" Ron asked

"Not me," Harry said.

"I certainly don't," Ginny replied.

"Neither do I," Hermione said.

The group looked at Parvati and Lavender, who both shook their heads.

"Well, I guess we could sew one," Lavender said.

"I reckon we'll have to," Hermione said.

"Okay, we'll need fabric," Parvati said, unconsciously taking charge, for the moment, at least.

"I've got a robe that's too small," Ginny said. "We can use that for Snape's robes. I was going to turn it into a skirt or tank top anyway."

"Perfect. We'll need some sort of string as well, for Snape's hair," Parvati informed them. "Padme started to knit or something though, so I'll just take some black yarn from her. We'll also need some flesh colored fabric, for his face and hands. And what about shoes?"

"How about we make his robes cover where his feet would be? The same with his hands, too," Ron suggested.

"As for his face, we can just paste his face from one of the pictures we get on there," Lavender suggested.

"So, there's the Snape doll then," Parvati said. "We should be able to erect this shrine before the month is out."

"With that out of the way, it's time for task fifteen," Harry announced.

Hermione sighed. "What is it?"

"Present Snape with a new bunny every few weeks. Tell him each one is named Minerva," Lavender said.

"Can I just leave it on his desk?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"Well...I don't see why not," Ginny said, smiling.

"Thank Goodness. Snape would think I had gone mad for sure!"

_If he doesn't already._

-99-

Task fifteen was delayed for nearly a week. No matter how hard the group thought, they couldn't think of any way to get a rabbit.

"I know Hogsmeade sells them in their Magical Menagerie, but the Hogsmeade weekend isn't for two weeks," Hermione told them.

"You could always go through the secret passage into Hogsmeade," Ron told her.

"Yes, but without all the crowds she would be easily noticeable," Harry pointed out. "I really don't think you should Hermione."

"We'll just have to have them deliver it through Owl Post," Ginny said. "A bunny is small enough for a strong owl to carry."

"But then Snape will know," Parvati reasonably pointed out.

"We'll just request they send it in the evening," Lavender suggested. "Then we'll be in the Common Room."

"Snape will never know," Ron assured.

"We still have to get a catalogue though," Hermione said.

"Hagrid will have one," Harry said.

"Won't Hagrid wonder where your pet went though?" Ginny asked Hermione.

"Well...I'll just tell him it's for a gift."

With that decision made, the Gryffindors went to their dormitories and fell fast asleep.

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

**A/N: **The first article was by Moonlight. The second article was by (FFN penname) Atalaya. She left it in a review, during this fic's first go. I'm not sure if Ginny's poem was written by me or a fan, sorry to say. If it was written by a reviewer, for some reason I never wrote down who sent it in, like I did with every other piece of fan-submitted poetry or articles. So that makes me think I wrote it. However, since I honestly don't remember either way, I'm just letting everyone know that it could well have been written by someone else.

Also, I'm sorry these chapters are so short, but that's how I wrote them way back then. Short of adding unnecessary filler scenes, I can't make them longer without throwing off the rest of the fic. If it makes you all feel better though, starting with chapter 12, the chapters do get longer. Thanks again for reviewing!


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **In case some of you are wondering (and I know at least one of you is) the italics that occur are Hermione's thoughts. Since this story is told from Hermione's point of view, everything is Hermione unless otherwise specified. So, that means that, unless it specifically said 'Harry thought' or something similar, assume it is Hermione's thoughts/words/actions/etc. I never even stopped to think that the italics might work either way, which is why I never specified that those were, indeed, Hermione's thoughts. Not Severus's. Sorry for any confusion that might have caused.

Thanks again for reviewing. Some of your reviews actually make me laugh out loud. And some of them have given me an awful, evil idea. (Looks innocent) But if I do make use of said evil idea, it won't be until _after_ I've finished this fic. And who knows when that will be.

One last thing, I've made a challenge that concerns Hermione. It's at HermioneFanFiction, in the files section in the (you guessed it) Challenges folder. If there's any interest, I'll post it somewhere else. I think it's a vaguely amusing idea, one I've been toying around with for a while, but never found the time to write a story around it. Basically, Hermione is a romance author and is casting herself and a canon male character as the leads. Through some bit of magic, she and the male character are forced to act out the various scenes from Hermione's book(s). The whys and whos are up to you (hey, that rhymes...).

And no...I have no idea where these crazy ideas of mine come from.

**Disclaimers: **Usual disclaimers apply. Author of poem appears at bottom.

**Chapter 11- "Ouch!"**

**The continuation of Tasks 12, 13, 14, and 15**

**Task 14** Set up a shrine to him. Somewhere very public.

**Task 15 **Present him with a pet baby bunny rabbit every few weeks. Tell him each  
one is called Minerva.

**Duration:** Every few weeks

Snape's reactions to the articles earlier that week had been, unfortunately, very boring. He had read the articles as though he had been expecting them. Only the Gryffindors watching him had noticed a slight widening of the eyes as he read the articles. And only Hermione, she was sure, saw Snape stick one of the articles into his pocket.

It was the first week of December, and the group still wasn't any closer to erecting the shrine to Snape. They had the doll, roughly made though it was, the candles (in light shades of purple, pink, and blue), the incense (lavender, rose, and vanilla), and even had a few pictures of Snape, some moving, others stationary. The only thing they didn't have were the poems, which were proving more difficult to write than previously thought.

For one thing, the seventh years were being worked harder than ever before, in preparation for their N.E.W.T.'s. They found they didn't have time for poetry, what with all their homework. Ginny had made a few poems, but nowhere near enough.

Hermione had found no more opportunities to tell Snape she 'knew', and the latest task was proving to be harder than she had anticipated.

Finally, the first Saturday of December, the bunny arrived. The six Gryffindors were in their usual chairs, when they heard a tapping at the window. Ron went over and opened the window, much to the protest of the rest of the Common Room. It was snowing outside, and a gust of icy wind swept through the Common Room.

"Hey, Hermione, I think it's here," Ron said, pulling a box from the owl's talons.

"What?" Hermione asked, distracted. She was studying her notes on Transfiguring one animal into another. They had started that day by trying to Transfigure a mouse into a gerbil. No one, not even Hermione, had been able to get the hang of it during class.

"The rabbit," Ron said, setting the box on the table, right on top of Hermione's notes.

The group looked in interest at the box. Hermione slowly opened it, peering inside. The rest of them gathered around her, trying to see inside.

"Aww," Lavender cooed. "I think he's cold. Hold him Hermione."

"How cute," Parvati said, looking at the snow-white bunny.

Hermione picked the rabbit up, cradling it against her stomach. The rabbit cuddled into her midriff, making Hermione smile.

"Seems a shame to give such a sweet creature to Snape," Ginny said.

"Well, he wouldn't hurt him, would he?" Hermione asked anxiously. She certainly wouldn't hand him over to Snape if there were any chance the man would harm the animal.

"I dunno," Harry said. "It's just a small bunny. He'd probably give it to Hagrid."

"Yeah, probably," Ron said, although he didn't sure.

"Hmm...How am I supposed to slip it onto his desk without Snape knowing?" Hermione asked.

"You can use the Invisibility Cloak," Harry said. "Just go in before class starts, make sure Snape is elsewhere, put the rabbit on his desk, then leave the room."

Hermione nodded, then left to her room, the bunny cradled in her arms.

-99-

Monday arrived, and with it, Potions. During lunch, Harry had retrieved his Cloak, passing it discreetly to Hermione under the table. Harry's hand had brushed a fifth year girl's thigh, causing her to smile coyly at him. Blushing furiously, Harry had ignored her and her smiles until he was able to make a hasty retreat. Chuckling to herself at the look on Harry's face, Hermione left the table herself.

Checking to make sure no one was in the corridor, she pulled out the Invisibility Cloak and slipped it on. Making sure to tread lightly, and watching for anything or anyone she might inadvertently run into, Hermione made her way towards the Potions room. The bunny was tucked away in her now empty book bag, contentedly chewing on some lettuce and carrots she had been able to sneak in during lunch.

Hermione made her way down to the dungeons slowly, nervously fidgeting with the cloak. She paused before the open door to the Potions classroom. Taking a deep breath, Hermione faced the open door, peering inside.

Hermione sighed in relief; the room was empty. She lightly walked inside, picking the rabbit up, but still keeping him hidden beneath the cloak. Taking one last look around, she set the rabbit on his desk. She hastily sought the note she had made the night before with a Dicto-quill; that way, he wouldn't be able to recognize the handwriting. The note read: _Her name's Minerva. I'm sure she'll love you._

Checking her watch, she noticed that class would begin in ten minutes. She started to make her way towards the door, but before she could exit, Snape swept into the classroom, his black robes flaring out beside him in a parody of bat's wings.

Hermione froze. Slowly, she inched her way back into a corner, hoping Snape would leave or turn his back so she could leave. Even though she _knew_ he couldn't see her through the cloak, she was still nervous.

Snape turned towards his desk, but stopped abruptly when he saw the rabbit chewing on one of his quills.

Eyes narrowing, he scanned the classroom, then walked outside of the room and looked through the halls. With only five minutes left until class began, Hermione knew she had to get out of the class. Surely Snape would know it was her if she suddenly appeared in the room when she had so clearly not been present before.

Snape, stubborn man that he was, sat down at his desk, snatching his quill from the rabbit.

He glared at the rabbit, and then suddenly noticed the note. Picking it up, Snape read it, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Odd," he mumbled.

Hermione held her breath and began to edge along the walls, hoping she could make it out the door before students started pouring in.

"That Gryffindor brat must have sent you," Snape said, his voice loud in the near silence of the room. He prodded the rabbit, which studied Snape for a second. Then, realizing Snape was not food went back to exploring the desk.

"Don't chew on that," Snape said irritably, snatching another quill.

Hermione could hardly suppress her laughter. Snape was talking to the rabbit!

"I wonder where she went," Snape wondered, his voice clear and loud. "Silly girl, to think she could get away with whatever it is she is doing."

Hermione stopped, looking at Snape. It seemed as though he were trying to bait her—or warn her. Did he know she was there?

"How does she know I'm not going to pickle you, huh?" Snape asked the rabbit, prodding it once more. "Or use you in some nasty potion?"

Clearly disliking the nudging, the rabbit turned and butted Snape's hand away from him.

"You're not even a girl, are you?" Snape asked, though he clearly seemed reluctant to check. "Naming you Minerva...how strange."

The rabbit hopped along the desk, sitting on a stack of papers.

"Get off of that," Snape said, poking the rabbit off the stack of papers. The rabbit turned, nipping Snape's hand.

"Ouch!" Snape said, jerking his hand back. The rabbit, standing on his legs, studied Snape. Finding nothing of interest, he began chewing once more on a quill.

"You bit me," Snape said, frowning. "Well, nipped me. Even so, I think I should put you in my office. You don't seem to do well with people."

Holding the bunny away from his body, Snape left the classroom. Hermione was able to slip out of the room, but noticed a group of people coming towards her. Luckily, it was just the Gryffindors.

Hermione took the cloak off, and quickly related what had happened.

"Talked to it?" Ron asked gleefully. "I wish I could've seen that!"

"The bunny bit him?" Parvati squealed. "I _knew_ he was a smart rabbit!"

"He scolded the rabbit for biting him? Hilarious!" Harry cried.

While the rest of the students entered the room, the Gryffindors quieted. But they couldn't resist watching Snape out of the corners of their eyes, imagining all that Hermione had told them.

-99-

"Ahem," Parvati said, clearing her voice.

Hermione turned to look at Parvati, as did the rest of the group, who were sitting in a loose circle in the Common Room.

"I've made a poem. Here goes. He's so dark, he's so tall, he makes me run into a wall. He gives me detention but I get the clue, Severus Snape I love you too!"

The group applauded, Ginny and Harry laughing so hard they were near tears. Hermione grimaced to herself, but laughed along with the rest. She didn't care if Snape saw the poems; more likely than not, he would realize she didn't _really_ fancy him. As long as the student body remained unaware of who had set up the shrine, she was absolutely fine with the whole ordeal.

"I've been thinking..." Parvati said, once the laughter had died down.

"Uh-oh," Harry laughed, grinning at the group.

"Perhaps we should hint that this shrine is being set up by someone other than Hermione," she continued, ignoring Harry.

"Like who?" Lavender asked, just as Hermione asked, "How?"

"I was thinking a Slytherin," Parvati answered.

"Malfoy!" Ron and Harry cried loudly at once, causing the entire Common Room to turn and stare at them.

"How do we make it seem as though Malfoy set up the shrine?" Hermione inquired, lowering her voice.

"Well...we can leave clues that point to him."

"Like what?" Ron asked.

"Oh, I don't know. Be creative."

"Maybe a blonde hair," Lavender suggested.

"How bout we write the poems on green paper with silver ink?" Harry asked.

"That still wouldn't point to Draco though. Just a Slytherin," Ginny pointed out.

"The blonde hair would point to Malfoy," Lavender said.

"It could be Pansy," Hermione added.

"Oh, yeah."

"We need something uniquely Draco," Ginny mused aloud. "Have any of you ever noticed something he does that's unique to him? Maybe how he writes papers or the way he arranges things?"

"Blimey, I've never bothered watching what _Malfoy_ does," Ron said, his emphasis on 'Malfoy' letting Ginny know that he noticed her calling the Slytherin by his first name.

"I've noticed that his papers always have really big titles. It's very extravagantly flourished as well," Hermione told them.

"Hmm, there's something, at least," Parvati said. "Anything else?"

"We'll start watching him to see if he does anything 'unique'," Harry said, laughing.

"Well, that's all we can do about that for now," Ginny said.

Hermione, who wholeheartedly agreed with Ginny, turned back to her Transfiguration notes, intent upon her studies.

-99-

Hermione left the Common Room that night, still thinking about Transfiguration. She had finally been able to Transfigure the mouse into a gerbil, but she had been the only one. It was harder than she had thought to turn one living thing into another. For one thing, the animals kept moving, which made it harder to cast the spell. For another, she had to exert more of her will with Transfiguration than she did with most of her other classes.

Stopping in front of her door, Hermione quickly said the password, wanting nothing more than a hot bath before falling into bed. However, as soon as Hermione entered her room, she stopped suddenly, looking at her bed. Or, rather, what was upon her bed.

A white bunny sat atop her bed, chewing a hole straight through the sheets. Frowning, Hermione looked around her room, making sure no one was there. Finding no one, she sat down heavily in a chair, watching the rabbit.

After a few minutes, Hermione sighed. She Summoned a sock and Transfigured it into a large cage. She hoped Snape had fed the rabbit, because Hermione had nothing to offer it. Putting the rabbit in the cage, Hermione shook her head, and then mended her sheets.

She should have _known_ Snape would try something like this. She could tell her pranks were agitating him and, while he disliked their whole group—whole House, for that matter—Hermione knew Snape liked her least of all, along with Harry, of course. At least, he suspected her the most of the group.

Hermione wondered what he would do next. However, after only moments of thought, she gave up. There was just no anticipating the man.

Hoping she wasn't in over her head, Hermione walked into her bathroom, hoping a nice long soak would help to ease her mind.

_**To Be Continued...**_

**A/N:** Parvati's poem was written by FFN pen name Tinne. Thank you everyone for your reviews. I swear, the people who read this fic must be among the best in the fandom, because all of you seem so nice. Thanks again.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: _Please Read!_** First of all, it would benefit everyone to read these notes. I don't just put them here for my own amusement.

First of all, it's been pointed out that this fic sounds like another fic that is out there. Let me clear this up for those of you who may be new. I'm pretty certain that my fic _will _sound like a fair few of other fics out there. Why? Because most of the 'Students Annoying Snape' fics are based on one main list. Granted, these lists do vary task to task, but essentially they are the same. Namely, they list ways in which to annoy the hell out of our dearest potions master. That said, it is really no big surprise that my fic will be similar to others' fics.

But, I would like to point out a little something. This fic is years old; it was written in 2002, or maybe even 2001. What point am I trying to make? This: my fic is one of the first ones out there to utilize The List. A few years ago, we were inundated with them, but me and a few others were really among the first. So, if anything, my fic isn't like theirs; their fic is like mine. I just want to clear that up because I went through this the last time this fic was posted (either people telling me I was plagiarizing someone else, or reporting that others were 'stealing' my idea). I just want to get it out of the way before it has the chance to become an issue.

The second thing is that this fic was originally posted years ago. The newest chapter is 15; the rest were written at least three years ago. The reason I'm pointing that out is because people are submitting poetry for the tasks. Please don't, because I have all the poetry (and articles) that I need. In fact, I have everything that I need. If and when I need reader submitted material (and I may, I'm not sure) I will ask. Until then, please don't submit any work of your own, because I can't use it. I have no place for it.

Third, for those of you who are concerned about the potential HG/SS pairing... Even if I do make this HG/SS (and it's a big IF) I can guarantee it will not detract from the crazy randomness of this story. This fic will still be insane and silly and hopefully funny regardless of any romance that may or may not occur. So, even if Snape and Granger do get together, you can rest easy that it will involve something humourous.

Also, you can tell me you don't want it to be SS/HG all you want...that really won't influence me one way or the other. If and when I decide, it will be my decision. It has everything to do with how the story and characters progress and develop, and nothing to do with readers' input. I'm not saying this to be rude or anything, just letting everyone know that it doesn't have anything to do with readers; it's not a 'vote yes or no' type of situation. Like I said, it will all depend on how the story plays out, which means I won't know for quite a while, since this fic has quite a few chapters left.

All that said, thank you for reading and reviewing. I love to hear that this fic is making you laugh out loud, or else earning you strange glances from strangers as you try to hold back your giggles. This is probably not the best fic to read in a library, or in any situation where you don't want to laugh, or while drinking... Maybe that should be added to the disclaimers...

**Disclaimers: **Usual disclaimers apply. See end notes for authors of poems.

**Chapter 12- An Introduction Gone Wrong**

**The continuation of Tasks 12, 13, 14, and 15**

**Task 16** Introduce him with the words "Here is a man who not only has a brilliant mind and a wonderful wit, but can also sing."

**Duration:** Once

**Task 17** When you see him coming, lie down in the hallway. Insist that you 'have fallen and can't get up.'

**Duration:** Once

"How did he get into your rooms, though?" Parvati asked.

The group was sitting in their usual spots, discussing the prior evening. They had a free hour before Potions and were taking advantage of the time, not by doing homework, as Hermione normally would have, but by talking about the tasks.

"How should I know?" Hermione told her, trying to hide her irritation. They were _her_ rooms, her own private space. Being an only child, it had been hard to adjust to having to share a room with two other girls. Now that she had her own room once again, she tried to keep it to herself as much as possible. She was not fond of sharing.

"Isn't that against school policy?" Ron asked eagerly. "I mean, we could get him fired, couldn't we?"

"How do we prove it was him?" Ginny asked. "Besides, we can't say anything without incriminating ourselves."

"That's true," Ron said, his smile fading.

"Well, at least we have task sixteen ready for you Hermione," Harry told her. "That ought to cheer you up."

"Oh, I'm sure it will," Hermione said wryly.

"Task sixteen is to introduce him with the words 'Here is a man who not only has a brilliant mind and a wonderful wit, but can also sing.'"

The whole group laughed aloud, but stopped when Lavender asked, "Can he sing?"

"Does it matter?" Parvati asked.

"Well, no. I was just wondering."

"When do I have to announce him? Every time he passes me?"

"Nope. You're pretty lucky on this one, mate," Ron said. "Just once, when he comes to Potions today."

"Hmmm...That's actually not _too _bad," Hermione said.

"Well, that's because we haven't told you task seventeen yet," Lavender said.

"_Great_."

"Task seventeen: when you see him coming, lie down in the hallway. Insist that you 'have fallen and can't get up.'"

"Just lie there waiting for him?" Hermione asked. "What if he doesn't come down the hall I pick?"

"Well, we'll watch him and make sure he's coming, then signal you. Then you lie down and wait for him."

"What if he doesn't stop?"

"He has to," Parvati said. "He can't just ignore a student lying on the ground. What if they were hurt?"

"I guess so," Hermione said doubtfully. Snape wasn't exactly known for his caring, compassionate manner.

"Perfect," Lavender said. "Unfortunately, it's time for Potions."

"I guess we had better go," Harry said. "Bye Ginny."

"Bye Gin," everyone said, while they walked out of the Common Room.

"Too bad Ginny won't get to see this," Harry said.

"I know. She misses out on the class tasks," Ron laughed.

"And those are usually the best," Parvati added.

They were soon inside the Potions room, waiting for Snape. Everyone was seated, except for Hermione, who was waiting by the door for Snape to enter. After a couple minutes, she saw dark robes swirling.

Without looking up, Hermione said in a loud voice, "Here is a man who not only has a brilliant mind and a wonderful wit, but can also sing." Hermione finished the sentence with a flourish of her hands, directing everyone's attention to...

"Professor McGonagall!" Hermione gasped.

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger," she replied. Hermione wasn't sure, but it appeared as though the professor was trying to hold back a smile. "That was a lovely introduction. Change the man to woman, and you've described me perfectly," McGonagall said in an undertone to Hermione, her voice rich with laughter.

Hermione went to her seat, her face burning. The Slytherins were laughing uproariously, along with a few Gryffindors.

"I just came to announce that Professor Snape will be here shortly. He and the Head Master had some things to discuss. I trust our Head Girl can keep the class in order," she said, sending a sly wink Hermione's way before leaving the classroom. If Hermione hadn't known better, she would swear she could hear McGonagall's laughter echoing in the halls. But no...surely not...

"Bloody grand, Hermione," Ron laughed.

"Couldn't you tell it was her?" Parvati asked, trying unsuccessfully to hold back her laughter.

"Obviously not. If I had known it was her I wouldn't have said that."

"At least she didn't take points," Lavender said, attempting to send her a sympathetic glance, but laughing instead.

"Settle down class," Snape said, his voice slicing easily through the noise. Immediately, everyone quieted.

Snape began lecturing, but for once, Hermione wasn't giving him her full attention. She couldn't believe she had said that to McGonagall. What would her professor think? Hermione knew she was McGonagall's favourite, and she valued that. She had a great respect for all her teachers, but McGonagall most of all.

Hermione calmed herself, relieved that McGonagall hadn't seemed mad at all. In fact, she had seemed amused. Hermione heaved an inward sigh of relief; she hadn't upset McGonagall at all, and it seemed the Transfiguration Professor knew more about their tasks than she had let on.

An interesting thought, that.

Soon, class was over, and she hurried out, eager to leave the dungeons and the Potions Master. Hermione glanced back as she was leaving. Snape was sitting at his desk, his head bent over a piece of parchment. He looked up, and for a brief instant their eyes met. Hermione flushed and looked away first.

Before she could see Snape's reaction, she had left the room.

-99-

Later that day, the group was in the corridors near the dungeons, waiting for Snape to walk by. Hermione was a little ahead of them, waiting for the signal: loud laughter.

While waiting for said signal, Hermione wondered once again if, perhaps, this game was such a good idea. She wasn't worried that she would get expelled, or anything like that; after all, they weren't exactly breaking rules... not exactly. She was more worried Snape would start his _own _game; a fear that in no way seemed misplaced. He was older than her, and she had no doubt he would be able to play the game better than she; after all, his magic was far more advanced than hers. His retaliation could be far worse than any of the tasks her friends had come up with.

Then again, that's what made the whole thing fun. It was exciting, Hermione admitted, baiting Snape like this, waiting for his reaction. Would he ignore her? Take away points? What would his retaliation be, if he did retaliate?

As the adrenaline began to rush through Hermione, she was able to push down any doubts she may have had. She was having fun, and that's all that mattered. She had worked hard at Hogwarts for years; surely, she was now entitled to play a little?

Loud laughter tore Hermione away from her thoughts. She immediately laid down, the stone floor cold and uncomfortable against her back. She folded her hands behind her head and waited for Snape to make his appearance.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Hermione saw Snape's black robes. He paused for a brief moment, and then resumed walking. Soon, he was standing over Hermione. From Hermione's viewpoint, he seemed a giant.

Snape said nothing, just stared down at Hermione. Finally, he remarked, almost idly, "An interesting spot to rest, Miss Granger."

"I've fallen, Professor, and I can't get up."

"Really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. I have fallen, and can't get up," Hermione repeated, wondering what he would do.

"Perhaps I should fetch Madame Pomfrey. Or maybe Professor Dumbledore?"

"No, no, I'm sure I'll be fine in a moment," Hermione said, trying not to let her emotions show. From the way Snape smirked, it seemed she had failed.

"Well, I can't just _leave_ you, Miss Granger. What ever shall I do?" he asked, exaggerating his concern.

Hermione stared, her mind a blank. She had no idea what he should do. She had never thought past the lying down part. She thought that, if Snape did anything, he would take points away and then walk off. But it seemed he had a mind to do something more.

"Hmmm, you must have hit your head when you fell, since you can't seem to answer me," he said, as though he were speaking to himself. "Well, I haven't a choice, really."

Before Hermione could ask what he was going to do, Snape had scooped Hermione into his arms. She gasped in outrage, before managing to ask, "What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you to the Infirmary. I'm quite certain that you are unwell."

"What?" Hermione asked, embarrassment warring with outrage.

"You've been acting strangely all year. We can't have you just falling all over the place; you might hurt yourself." Although Hermione couldn't see his face, Snape's voice was rich with laughter.

Hermione prayed that no one would see them. What would people think? Without thinking, Hermione hid her flaming face against Snape's shoulder, hoping that, should someone see them, they wouldn't know who it was.

Hermione sighed. She would just have to resign herself to her fate. She breathed in deeply, and then stopped. She breathed in again, wondering what that smell was. It smelled like cinnamon and sandalwood. With a shock, Hermione realized it was Snape. He smelled good, Hermione thought. She had always figured he would smell bad, like potions ingredients. This was one instance when she was happy to be proven wrong.

"Severus! What happened?" Madame Pomfrey asked, as they arrived in the Infirmary.

"Miss Granger fell in the halls. I'm quite certain that she is unwell."

"How do you feel, Miss Granger?" Madame Pomfrey asked kindly.

"I'm fine, really," Hermione said, trying to wriggle out of Snape's grasp. However, Snape only held her tighter.

"Set her down over here, Severus," Madame Pomfrey told him, indicating a bed in the back of the room.

"No, I'm fine. Really, I am," Hermione said, as the two adults shot each other doubtful glances.

"Did you see her fall?" Madame Pomfrey asked Severus.

"I did," Snape said, while Hermione just stared. "She was walking through the halls, then all of a sudden she crumpled to the floor. Of course, I immediately went to see what the problem was, but Miss Granger was incoherent. Not knowing what was wrong, I brought her here."

"I'm glad you did, Severus. I wonder what could be wrong," Madame Pomfrey said, as Hermione glared at Snape. "Stress perhaps. You always did push yourself far too hard, Miss Granger." Madam Pomfrey seemed oblivious to the glare Hermione was sending Snape's way, instead choosing to fuss over Hermione.

"Well, if that is all, I really must be going," Snape said. "Feel better, Miss Granger," he said, the corners of his mouth barely lifting.

"You'll have to stay the night," the medi-witch informed Hermione.

"What? Why?"

"Just to make sure nothing is seriously wrong." Madam Pomfrey shook her head, muttering about the stresses of N.E.W.T.s and the students she could expect as the year wore on.

-99-

"So, about the shrine," Parvati said, after the group had laughed over Hermione's stay in the Infirmary.

"The Snape doll is ready," Lavender said, holding up the doll. The yarn they had used for hair hung limply about the doll's face, which was a picture of Snape's face. The robes were large, and conveniently covered the doll's hands and feet. It was crude, but looked enough like Snape to be convincing.

"Did anyone think of any ways to incriminate Malofy?" Ron asked eagerly.

"I did," Ginny said smirking. "First, we spread a rumour that he fancies men."

"I like it so far," Harry said, his voice full of laughter.

"Then, we steal one of his quills and leave it at the shrine."

"How will people know it's his?" Parvati asked.

"Well, I imagine Malfoy will complain about it, once it's been stolen."

"He will," Hermione said without doubt. "Remember last year, when Goyle had taken a piece of Malfoy's parchment? It turned out he had all the pieces counted. When he counted them again at the end of class, he was one short."

"I remember that," Lavender replied. "He complained to Snape about it. Said there was a parchment thief running about."

"So, he'll complain about the quill, and everyone will know about it," Ginny finished.

"Then, of course, we can use the green Slytherin paper," Lavender said.

"I have another idea for the shrine," Hermione added.

"What is it?" the group asked eagerly.

"Well, how about we have soft violin or piano music in the background, playing incessantly? Then, we charm wherever it is that we put the shrine so that it looks like the shrine is outdoors. We put grass, flowers, and bushes inside, with fairy lights everywhere!"

"Oooh, I like it!" Ginny said.

"And we can have an arch over the entrance way," Ron added. "With flowers and fairy lights all over!"

"Speaking of the shrine, I have another poem," Ginny announced.

"Oh, so do I," Parvati added.

"Me, too," Ron, Lavender, and Harry added.

"Well, I'll go first," Ginny said. "I can't pay attention in Potions class, on tests I've never gotten a pass. Because Snape is so hot, I don't care what grade I've got, my exams all get thrown in the trash."

"With skin as white as alabaster, we all know he's the world's best Potion Master," Lavender began. "With dark onyx eyes, that give a piercing look, I gaze silently at him, over my potions text book. In class I sit, stirring a bubbling cauldron, hoping patiently, that someday I will be called on, to answer some obscure, arcane bit of trivia, like 'the root of what plant is grown in Namibia?' Or perhaps in the Great Hall, on all Hallows Eve, he'd notice me, sneer at me, enviously; while all the Hogwarts boys flock together around me, but my eyes are only for the potions master before me. With his robes he flaps around like a big, giant, bat, I'll stare at him slyly from under the brim of my hat, and finally, oh hopefully, he'll at last understand, that I love Severus Snape, the hottest wizard in the land."

"I wish he could notice, I wish he could care, I wish he would look at me, I'm obsessed, wouldn't you be? With the body of a God, the hair of an angel, the voice of a demon, Severus Snape is too go to be true," Harry read.

"Hair like grease, skin so sallow, won't you pass me the root of mallow?" Ron read next.

"I know he treats me like a bug, but he does it because he's insecure. All he needs is a nice big hug, so give him one and he'll soften for sure," Parvati read last.

"Those are all hilarious!" Hermione said, unable to stop laughing.

"How did you think of yours, Lavender?" Ron asked.

"I'm not sure," she replied. "It just sort of came to me."

"Well, all I have to say is this," Hermione said. "When Malfoy realizes that everyone thinks _he_ wrote these, he may well have a nervous breakdown."

"At least we'll be able to watch!" Harry said.

_**To Be Continued...**_

**A/N** Harry's poem (I wish he would notice...) was written by MetallicaFangirl. Ginny's (I can't pay attention in potions class) was written by FFN pen name Fireblade K'Chona. Lavender's Ode To Snape (With skin as white as alabaster) was written by FFN pen name Bena Glinney. Parvati's Poem (I know he treats me like a bug) was written by FFN pen name Tinne. Thanks for reviewing!!


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **This is to an anonymous reviewer. I'm going to answer your questions. I really am sorry I'm doing this so publicly, but as you left an anonymous review, I couldn't just respond. I won't say your name, though of course, anyone can just search through the reviews. Again, sorry this isn't private, but I really had no choice. I'm not sure if you're even still reading (and considering you didn't like the fic, I have no idea why you would be) but as the review was left on chapter 12, you did already read twelve chapters of a fic you didn't like. So maybe you came back.

Firstly, you say my plot is predictable. I'm wondering what, exactly, you're referring to. Which parts are predictable? I enjoy constructive criticism, but the key word is constructive. Telling me my plot is predictable, without pointing out which part is predictable or how it's predictable doesn't help me very much.

Concerning my characters being OOC... Yes I know. In my defense, that fact is pointed out in numerous places. If you don't like OOC fics, you were warned prior to reading this fic, so you could have simply not read it. I can't really refute your claim, because I freely admit the characters are out of character. I don't know how to write a parody without OOC characters. I'm sure it can be done, and brownie points to those who are doing it, but I do not have the skill to make all my characters in character while acting so out of character.

You ask why, out of all my fics, did I choose to revive this one. That's easy enough to answer: This is the only fic that is able to be resurrected. The others were so AU that it would probably have been easier to just start a new fic rather than redo those old ones. They were written in that long interval between GOF and OotP, and so many of my main plot points were shredded by OotP and HBP that it wasn't worth bringing those fics back. They are dead and I'm okay with that. Also, I've always loved this fic. The others were darker and more serious, and this one was plain fun. So why would I resurrect an old, unworkable fic I didn't love when I could bring this one back, that would work and that I did love? The choice was simple.

Lastly, you ask why I bothered to add another Annoying Snape fic, when there are so many already out there. Why add any type of fic? There are a ton of HG/SS fics, why add another? There are plenty of Harry/Draco fics, or Ginny/Harry fics, or Draco/Ginny fics, so why add another one of those? There are plenty of Harry hunts for Horcrux fics, or Dumbledore isn't really dead fics, or ... well, you get the idea. Why add another of any type of fic? If everyone asked themselves, "There are so many fics vaguely like this one already out there, should I bother adding another?" I can't even imagine all of the wonderful fics we would have missed out on. Not that I'm comparing my fic with theirs, just making a point. Why add another type of any fic? Is there even a real answer to that question? I can't answer for anyone but myself, but like I said, I liked this fic. All my other ideas are dark and depressing. I'm not saying I won't someday write them, but I'd rather focus on this crazy little piece of nonsense, than get into a whole big dark, depressing fic that I'd have to start from scratch on.

I understand you weren't flaming, and I hope you don't think I'm flaming you, but I really wanted to answer your questions and this was the only way I could do it. I hope this helps you and anyone else wondering the same things (as I'm sure others are) to understand why I'm doing what I'm doing.

Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. You guys are really the best. Some of you are either very smart or remember reading this story before, because you're asking questions that I can't answer, for fear of giving things away! All I can say is keep reading and you'll see just how close some of you have come. Hopefully, you'll all be pleasantly surprised (though, maybe not so much for those of you who read this before...).

**Disclaimers: **To be on the safe side, I'll say it again. This fic is full of Out-Of-Character-ness. If you don't like OOC characters, I suggest you leave now. We'll wait. If you do read the fic anyway, even knowing it is OOC, I would appreciate it if you didn't leave me a review telling me the fic was OOC. Surprisingly enough, I already know.

**Chapter 13- Preparations**

**The continuation of Tasks 12, 13, 14, and 15**

**Task 18** Find out when his birthday is. Throw a surprise party. Shower him with gold ribbons and red balloons.

**Duration:** Once

"We've decided," Harry said imperiously to Hermione, "to give you a break on the tasks."

"Really?" Hermione asked, intrigued.

"Yes," Ginny said. "We decided that, since the shrine is taking up more time than we thought, we're closing tasks twelve and thirteen."

"Consider it an early Christmas present," Ron said, smiling.

"So no more articles?

"Right."

"No more telling him I know?"

"No more."

"Wow. Thanks," Hermione said warily. There had to be a catch somewhere.

"You still have to make the shrine and give him the bunnies though," Parvati told her.

"And?" Hermione asked, looking expectantly around the group.

"And...that's it," Lavender said.

"Really?" Hermione asked, still suspicious.

"It seems she knows us all a little too well," Ginny said with a smirk.

"It would appear so," Lavender added.

"Well, we're going to give you a short term task, since the other two are long term," Harry informed her.

"Oh, are you? How splendid," Hermione sarcastically, with a falsely bright smile.

"Don't you want to know what the next task is?" Parvati asked.

"No, not particularly," Hermione replied lazily, steadying the cotton she was preparing to transfigure into a rabbit. "But I suppose you're going to tell me anyway, am I right?"

"Well, yeah," Ron said.

"The next task is to––"

"What task number is this, anyway?" Lavender asked.

"Task seventeen?" Ron said.

"No, it's eighteen," Parvati responded.

"Ahem," Ginny coughed in a perfect imitation of Professor Umbridge, "as I was saying, the next task is to find out when his birthday is––which we've done, it's this weekend––and throw him a surprise party, with gold ribbons and red balloons."

"Gods have mercy, he'll die of a heart attack!"Hermione shrieked, her eyes wide.

"Don't get our hopes up!" Harry said laughing.

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the thought of the upcoming task; Snape deserved a party with a Gryffindor theme after what he'd pulled on her. Of course, considering that what he had done to her had been in retaliation for things they'd done to him for things he'd done to them...well, too much more of _that _type of thinking would give Hermione a headache, and with a party to plan, that was one thing she could do without.

"Well, since I have to do this, I might as well enjoy it," Hermione said, smirking. "And I have thought of _just_ the thing to make this birthday one Snape will _never_ forget!"

With a wicked smiling lighting up her face, Hermione neatly transfigured the cotton into a rabbit, while her friends asked just what, exactly, she was planning.

"You'll see."

-99-

"So, you see Tonks, it would _really _help me out, if you did this one, tiny favour," Hermione said, giving her Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor her _unsure-but-hopeful_ smile.

"Oh, _Hermione_!" Tonks breathed. "It's brilliant! Absolutely bloody brilliant! He's had it coming to him for _ages_!" Tonks was fairly bouncing up and down in her excitement. Hermione knew Tonks was not overly fond of Snape; then again, who was?

"So, you'll help?" Hermione asked hopefully. If Tonks didn't help, what could potentially be the best part of the party––well, for them––wouldn't happen.

Her face fell. "Oh, I don't know. I want to, but as a professor, I should be setting an example..." Tonks said, her voice uncertain. She bit her bottom lip, thinking.

"Well, it's a party," Hermione cajoled. "It will be on the weekend. It's not technically against the rules."

Tonks' bright, bubble-gum pink lips curled into a wicked smirk. "You're right. I'm in."

With one ally down and one to go, Hermione was certain the task would be a breeze.

-99-

"Tonks agreed to _what_?" Professor McGonagall yelped. "You mean, she's going to do it?"

Hermione, who had just started to sip the tea her professor had offered her, snorted into her cup, trying to hide her laughter. She hadn't known McGonagall was capable of yelping.

"Yes, professor," Hermione replied softly, trying to appear proper and demure. She was in McGonagall's office, trying to convince the older witch to help her. The deputy headmistress had been reluctant, but apparently, the thought of Tonks being in on the joke and not she was unthinkable.

"Well, I certainly won't be outdone by a Ravenclaw!" McGonagall said, slamming her teacup onto the table hard enough to slosh liquid over the sides. "I've been throwing parties longer than she's been alive! Why, in my day, my parties were known for their wildness and debauch–I mean, they were well known for..." McGonagall faltered, remembering she was speaking with a student. "Well, they were well known!"

Hermione tried to bite back a grin and failed. Who would ever have guessed? She tried to imagine the older witch throwing a party full of "wildness and debauchery" but failed utterly. She supposed once you saw someone as your teacher, you would always see them that way.

"What do you need?" McGonagall asked, a gleam in her eye.

"I'm glad you asked."

-99-

It was Saturday, the day of the party, and the group was down in a dungeon room making sure it was ready for the party. Snape was due to arrive in half an hour or so, for an emergency staff meeting.

"McGonagall did all this?" Parvati asked, surveying the multitude of gold ribbons and red balloons. It looked like a red and gold party factory had exploded. Besides the streamers, balloons, and magically floating confetti (ready to drop the moment Snape arrived), there were comfortable armchairs (all maroon), a huge fireplace warming the room (with red and gold flames, an interesting sight), and plates with gold lions along the edges. There was a huge white cake in the corner, the 'Happy Birthday Professor Snape' written in red and gold frosting. The flowers adorning said cake were, again, red and gold. Hermione thought she saw a lion loping across one of the many tiers of the cake, but the creature was gone before she could get a good look.

There were a mound of presents on the table; Hermione suspected it was more than Snape had received for his last three birthdays combined, especially since no one had (previously) known his birthday. She had no idea how her friends had found out, but suspected Dumbledore had let a little something slip. There was a large stuffed lion among the presents, roaring every ten minutes or so. Ron had jumped nearly a foot upon hearing the realistic sound, but they were all used to it by now.

"All of it," Hermione said, answering Parvati's question, "plus, apparently, a few things besides. But she wouldn't say what."

"He's going to die. He'll walk in the door and bloody die!" Ron said happily, spinning around the room.

"Come on Ron, you'll jinx it," Harry joked.

"I can't wait to see the look on his face!"

"Guess what I'm giving him," Hermione urged the group.

"What?" they chorused.

"The bunny," she said, indicating a large box with holes in the side.

"I've done one better," Ginny said.

"Ooh, exciting, do tell," Parvati said, leaning toward Ginny.

"I got him a snake picture frame and signed the card '_lovingly yours, Draco_.'"

Think he'll believe it's really Malfoy's gift?" Hermione asked. "Just because he's a Slytherin doesn't mean he's brain dead."

"Well, I wrote 'Draco,' then crossed it out, and signed it 'Secret Admirer' instead. But he'll be able to see the word Draco. Trust me, he'll avoid ferret boy like the plague now, mark my words."

Ginny had only just finished her sentence when Professors Dumbledore, Hooch, McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick, and Trelawney entered the room.

"Everyone, hide, he'll be here any minute," McGonagall hissed, extinguishing the candles.

"I'd very much appreciate it if whoever just sat down in my lap removed themselves immediately," McGonagall's stern voice sounded out in the darkness.

"Erm, oops," Harry said softly. "Sorry."

"Shhh, everyone, quiet," Hooch interrupted. "Here he comes!"

Hermione heard footsteps just outside the door coming to a stop. There was a pause before the door was yanked open with a groan of protest.

As Snape stood framed in the doorway, the candles sparkled back to light, everyone jumped up yelling, "SURPRISE!", confetti began to rain down from the ceiling, and the balloons came to life, floating around the room.

He stood, frozen, staring into the room, too stunned to move one step. His jaw dropped and hung open, his mouth forming and remaining in an O of surprise. His eyebrows shot up. A look of pure terror struck Snape's face and, had Dumbledore not pulled him into the room, Hermione was positive he would have turned around and sprinted all the way up the hall to his rooms. As it was, Dumbledore had to enlist the aid of both Hooch and Sprout to get the struggling man into the room.

Snape stumbled into the room, pushed by the three professors, still too shocked to speak. His eyes darted from one horrifying scene to another: balloons; gold streamers; Gryffindors; red furniture; a cake; Gryffindors; presents; party hats; GRYFFINDORS.

"We finally managed to surprise him!" Dumbledore shouted. "And here I thought it was impossible! Well met, Severus, well met indeed. Have a party hat!"

Snape watched in growing horror as Dumbledore placed the shiny children's party hat––bright red––upon his greasy head. Cheers sounded around the room.

Snape's gaze finally settled on Hermione, his eyes full of malice. His revenge would be great; she'd have to be on the lookout. But until then, she would enjoy embarrassing Snape as much as possible.

Raising her plastic party glass in a mocking salute, Hermione smiled smugly.

The party had only just begun.

_**To Be Continued...**_

**A/N: **Yes, this was a shorter chapter, but the next is longer and hopefully, well worth waiting for. And the chapter after that is brand new! Also, I can't remember if Tonks is actually a Ravenclaw or not... If she's not, then sorry for not being cannon.

Also, it's come to my attention that I messed up the credits from the last chapter. Let's hope I get it right this time. Fireblade K'Chona wrote the "Hair like grease" poem, read by Ron. Ginny's poem, (I can't pay attention in potions class...)was written by pen name Sperry Dee. The rest were correct, I just mixed those two up (and didn't even mention Sperry Dee, sorry about that!). I think those are correct... I had them written down properly, but mixed them all up when I copied it down. I'll try and be more organized (though I can't promise anything). If I do this again (here's hoping I don't) don't hesitate to let me know. Thanks again for reading and reviewing!


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **Thank you all for reviewing! I can't believe there's more than 250 reviews. You guys rock.

**I'm really sorry this chapter is late, but I did try to post it multiple times since Thursday. FFN was experiencing some problems and refused to let me upload anything. I tried to go to the link provided in the error message, and it was unavailable as well. So all I could do was keep trying, only to get the error message over and over. I'm really sorry, but there was nothing I could do. Thanks for understanding! Look for Chapter 15 later today as well. Again, sorry, and thank you for understanding!!**

**Disclaimers: **Usual disclaimers apply: The characters are out of character, this is a parody, don't complain about OOC characters, don't like it, don't read it, etc

**Chapter 14: A Birthday Party or a Bachelor Party?**

**The continuation of Tasks 14, 15, and 18**

"So, what first?" Dumbledore asked, blue eyes twinkling, merrier than Santa Claus had ever been. "Cake or gifts?"

Snape, children's party hat still upon his head, stood perfectly still, as if waiting for his chance to flee the party. His ebony eyes darted frantically from side to side, checking, undoubtedly, for any possible escape. But, of course, there was none; Hermione had seen to that.

"Cake it is!" Dumbledore answered for Snape. He gave no indication that he knew Snape was miserable, nor did he seem disheartened by Snape's apparent lack of enthusiasm. If anything, the more uncomfortable Snape was, the happier the Headmaster was.

Snape opened his mouth as if to protest, but at that precise moment, McGonagall waved her wand, effectively stopping Snape's complaints. Hermione thought for one second that McGonagall had put a Silencing Charm upon Snape, heartily applauding the older woman's quick thinking (inwardly, of course). But, Hermione soon realized that Snape wasn't Silenced, but merely in yet another state of shock–that is, if he had ever gotten over the previous state.

The candles dimmed suddenly, until there was only a slight glow illuminating the room. Flitwick swished and flicked the cake to a more prominent position. It was a somewhat comical sight, especially since the cake was almost a head taller than the diminutive professor. The cake had pure white icing, with red and gold writing and decoration. The Hogwarts crest was displayed in full colour upon the sides of the many layers, along with a portrait of Snape, alternately frowning and sneering. "The greasy git at his best," Harry had commented. There was also a lion running up and down the tiers of the cake. Hermione didn't know who had cast all of the charms, but it made for one very interesting cake.

Of course, she was certain that since the cake wasn't real, it had been easier to apply the charms to ensure the pastry was suitably festive. As the candles upon the cake burst into flame–red, of course–the music began to play.

It wasn't a tune Hermione readily recognized, though she had heard the likes of the song before. In poorly written movies and old cartoons the song was a classic. Hermione imagined old-fashioned saloons playing the song, as women in dozens of skirts danced the can-can and blonde, Marilyn Monroe look-alikes performed in men's lounges. Nothing like the modern strippers would dance to; well, as far as Hermione knew, at any rate. But bachelor parties on television never did show much: smoky, dimly lit parlours with a woman on a stage, high heels perilously tall, men waving money, smoking cigars. Of course, Hermione wasn't certain that was what actually happened, but as far as she knew, the strip clubs of the twentieth century had long thrown out the likes of this song.

A spotlight focussed on the cake, though Hermione was unsure of where it was coming from. McGonagall's doing, most likely. Hermione sent quick smirks to the other Gryffindors, silently letting them know that this was the main event–at least, it was the main event _she_ had planned. If the other professors had any tricks up the proverbial sleeve, Hermione was ignorant to their plots.

It seemed like it took ages for the show to begin, though in reality, Hermione knew it couldn't have been more than a few heartbeats. She couldn't stop the smirk that blossomed upon her face. _This was it! This was the ultimate Wipe-the-superior-smirk-from-Snape's-greasy-face plan, _Hermione thought.Well, it was _one_ of them, anyway.

As everyone watched, wondering what would happen next–even Hermione wasn't completely certain–the candles on the cake abruptly went out. However, before anyone could do or say anything, the top of the cake flew back, as though hinged to the cake's body (which it was). Mouths opened to question the strange occurrence, but, before anyone had the chance to speak, a woman popped out of the cake.

Hermione watched everyone's expression as Tonks stepped out of the cake. It didn't look like Tonks, of course; she had put her unique skills to use, Tonks had. She had auburn hair that flowed halfway down her back, side-swept bangs obscuring her left eye. She had perfectly pale skin, with expertly administered make-up staining high cheekbones and full mouth. The green eyes were rimmed in black, the lashes long and full.

She was wearing an emerald coloured, sequined body suit, sleeveless and no doubt legless. Little more than a swimsuit; a revealing swimsuit, at that. The top of the outfit was cut low, showing an ample amount of pale cleavage. Hermione wondered briefly how Tonks kept the top from falling; magic, she reckoned.

The music continued as Tonks wiggled–there was no other word for it–around the room. She wore black fishnet stockings, with open-toed, spiked heeled shoes. The heels had to be at least four inches. _How did Tonks walk without breaking an ankle? _Hermione saved the question for a more convenient time.

Snape was silent, utterly still. He was gaping; Hermione could think of no other way to describe his expression. Then again, most of the other men in the room were doing the same. _Hell, we're _all_ gaping._

Ron, surprisingly, was the first to recover. "Galleons! I've Galleons, plenty of them!" he shouted, madly waving his gold. Perhaps his recovery wasn't so surprising.

Tonks didn't even falter. She walked over to Ron–sashayed, actually–and asked in a husky voice, "What'll it be?"

Ron hesitated; in that moment, Harry rushed forward, shoving his bag of Galleons under Tonks' nose.

"Hey! I offered first!" Ron protested.

"I have more!" Harry shouted.

"I'm better looking!"

"I'm smarter!"

"I'm braver!"

"You're afraid of spiders, you git!"

"Yeah, well at least I didn't faint at the sign of that dementor!"

"That was in bloody third year, Ron!"

"Well, I'm still the better choice."

"Stop it, both of you!" Ginny shouted. "You useless prats. Put your gold away; she isn't a," here, she whispered, "prostitute." Ginny stopped short. "Are you?" she asked Tonks, unable to meet her eyes.

Tonks merely walked away, continuing the dance without answering the question. Ginny, Harry, and Ron fell silent. Tonks swung her hips over to Snape.

"Hello, birthday boy," she said in her low voice. Despite the lack of volume, everyone heard her. Tonks put her hand on Snape's shoulder; Snape looked coldly at her hand. Tonks faltered for a moment, removing her hand, standing in front of the Potions Master as if unsure what to do next.

She recovered in record time, twining her arms around Snape's neck before he had a chance to say a word. Hermione thought for one wild instant that Tonks was going to kiss Snape; then, abruptly, Snape stepped back. He had yanked the door open before anyone had a chance to stop him. But, luckily, the sight of what was waiting right outside the door _did_ stop him.

He backed away from the door quickly. Hermione strained to see what had caused such a reaction. When she was able to see properly, she couldn't stop the grin that was forming. Hell, she didn't want to. For there, in the doorway, framed now by the spot light, stood three belly-dancers.

They had dark, tanned skin with black hair pulled back from exotically beautiful faces. There were sheer veils shrouding the faces enough that Hermione could see nothing more distinct than their beauty. The eyes were all that were visible, kohl-rimmed, heavy-lidded black eyes.

One was dressed in red, with flowing pants that hung low on her hips and cuffed tight at the ankles, golden bangles tinkling around her waist, catching the light. She had a red bandeau top that wouldn't have been covering her at all, except for the sheer scarves hanging down her arms and chest. She had golden bracelets and bare feet.

The middle dancer was wearing a deep, royal purple skirt that was nothing more than long, silky strands of fabric, alternating with the sheer scarves that revealed more than they hid. Silver gleamed at her waist and wrist; she had a silver circlet on her head. She clinked softly when she moved, making no other sound, as she too was barefoot. Her top was the same purple silky material, flowing down her arms, cuffing tight a few inches from her wrist.

The third woman was dressed in midnight blue. She wore low slung pants that looked as though they were made of velvet. They were loose and streamed down her legs in blue folds. The top was like Red's, though velvety, with sheer fabric forming actual sleeves. She also wore silver at waist and wrist, though no circlet.

Tonks was forgotten now that a more exotic show had arrived. She didn't look like she minded, though; if anything, she seemed to be enjoying the show as much as anyone.

"You always were ambitious, Severus!" Flitwick yelled, tossing back what Hermione was beginning to suspect was more than just punch. Or maybe the professors were just naturally a rowdy bunch. Hermione shook her head, grinning.

"Ladies, welcome, welcome," Dumbledore greeted the dancers. His eyes twinkled as he said, beaming with a smile almost as bright as the spotlight, "The birthday boy is right this way."

Red took the lead, following Dumbledore as he walked–no, skipped was more like it–toward Snape. He was against the wall, eyes darting back and forth, from smiling face to smiling face. He met Hermione's eyes for a brief moment, glanced away, then looked back, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Hermione smirked, that lazy, challenging smirk she'd saved for just the right moment. Snape raised an eyebrow, taking a careful step away from the wall. She kept eye contact with Snape, hoping he would look away first. He didn't. Then, her smirk turning into a mocking grin, she blew him a kiss.

He pushed completely away from the wall, striding into the middle of the room. His chin was thrust defiantly upwards, his shoulders were thrown back and he stood painfully straight. Hermione realized that she hadn't been sure until just now that he had accepted the challenge. She had been able to make excuses to herself, regardless of the evidence. But now she was sure. Snape was involved, whether he liked it or not. He was ready to play the game and come out on top. He might not have liked being dragged into it, but now that he was there, Hermione could tell he was going to enjoy himself as he won.

Of course, Hermione didn't really mind. Because, when all was said and done, she was just as certain of her abilities as he was of his own. She was more than ready to slap the smirk off his face–though not literally, of course.

_Then again, maybe it would be literally..._

_**To Be Continued...**_

**A/N:** I just want to remind everyone that the next chapter is all new! It will be out Monday. After that, however, do not expect this fic to follow the schedule. Chapter 16 will show up whenever it's finished. Thanks again for reading and reviewing!!


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N**: Thank you for all your reviews! I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this.

**Disclaimers: **Not only is this whole story completely out of character, it is also extremely silly. You have been warned. Also, it's very AU; disregard the events in Half-Blood Prince completely while reading this. But most of all, keep an open mind and have fun! Also, since it has been forever since I've worked on this story, there may be some discrepancies. Please bear with me as I try and sort everything out.

**Chapter 15** Have You Ever Noticed...?

**The continuation of Tasks 14, 15, and 18**

**Task 19** Drop vague hints that Filch likes him a little more than strictly necessary.

**Duration: **As long as necessary

The Gryffindors were in the Common Room, reminiscing over last night's party. After the belly dancers had arrived, everything had gone uphill from there (though, depending on one's point of view, it could easily have been said that everything went downhill). Snape had tried to act nonchalant, as if the belly dancers and Tonks-in-disguise didn't bother him. He lasted a good ten minutes, until Dumbledore announced it was time to open his presents.

By that time, Tonks-in-disguise had long since faded into the background. Tonks, sans disguise, had 'entered' the room later, apologizing for being late. She had looked normal, or as normal as Tonks ever looked. Her bright pink hair was spiked and her make-up subdued. However, Hermione caught sight of the spiked heels under her robes. Tonks sent a wink to Harry and Ron, not realizing that they hadn't known exactly who had jumped out of the cake; she thought they had been playing along, trying to spice things up. When Hermione let them in on the joke, she worried they might faint from their embarrassment. Throwing Galleons at a mysteriously sexy stranger was one thing, but throwing them at Tonks--not only a member of the Order, but their _professor_--was simply not done. Hermione, Ginny, Lavender and Parvati had silently laughed at them the rest of the party.

The first present Snape had opened had been from Dumbledore himself: a matching robe and hat set, in a deep blue color decorated with silver stars that swirled across the fabric. Hermione had to admit that the robes were quite handsome–for anyone but Snape, that was. Snape had dutifully thanked the Headmaster for his gift, but Hermione could well imagine what dire fate awaited the robes. At the least, they were destined to spend an eternity in the back of Snape's closet.

McGonagall's present was next, consisting of a rather nice dressing robe in a deep emerald green. Snape had actually seemed pleased with the present, though Hermione couldn't be sure; it was always hard to discern positive expressions on Snape's face. She thought it was probably because he practiced them so little.

Unfortunately (for Snape, at any rate) that was to be one of nicest presents he received. Hooch's present came next, wrapped in eye-smarting yellow paper. Hermione could still recall the look of puzzlement followed by horror on Snape's face as he pulled out, not one, but two thongs. The first had been a dark green, the second silver. Both were decorated with sequined details in opposing colors: green for the silver thong, silver for the green. Hermione wasn't sure which was better: Snape's look of horror upon receiving such a gift or Ron's look of disgust upon imagining Snape in a thong.

Hermione's present, the bunny, had been next. Unfortunately, it garnered no reaction from Snape, though McGonagall shot her a puzzled look upon seeing the card about the rabbit's neck: _Her name is Minerva. _Hermione had shrugged quickly before turning an innocent glance towards Snape.

The rest of the presents were unremarkable: various books, potions ingredients, and the like. There was one anonymous gift, a handsome knife of pure silver, which Snape did not sneer at. No one but Hermione knew the gift was from her–she had told no one, knowing it was something she must do on her own. A small apology for the pranks on his birthday, a real gift to replace the fake ones. She knew the others wouldn't understand and didn't blame them. She didn't really understand it herself, only that she knew it was the right thing to do. Dumbledore seemed the only one who suspected it was her; he sent a small, nearly imperceptible nod in her direction while no one was looking, making her glad she had spent the time and galleons.

The last present, however, did raise a few brows (though, understandably, not as many as the thongs). Ginny's gift was wrapped in silver and green paper, adorned with Slytherin crests. Snape opened the card first, frowning, no doubt, at the crossed out signature. Ginny had signed Draco's name to the card, then did a poor job of crossing it out, replacing it instead with "lovingly yours, your secret admirer". The group could hardly keep from laughing as Snape's brows furrowed, a faint look of alarm upon his face as he removed a frame decorated with snakes. But what no one was prepared for, except of course Ginny, was the picture in the frame. It was an actual picture of Draco: he tossed his hair, winking up at Snape, striking various poses. The group had been hard pressed not to die of laughter as Snape, still looking panicked, quickly tossed the present back in it's box, as if trying to get as far away as possible from the gift.

"How did you manage it, Ginny?" Ron asked, referring to the picture of Draco.

"You should all know by now that Gryffindor has its own resident photographer." At their blank looks, she said, "Colin Creevy!"

"Malfoy actually _let_ him take his picture?" Harry asked.

"This _is_ Malfoy," Lavender said. "You can tell by the preening in the picture that he loved every moment of it."

"Of course," Ginny said, "Draco isn't aware that copies of said picture were made."

"'Draco'?" Ron asked, his eyes narrowing. "Since when has Malfoy become Draco?"

"Oh, honestly, Ron," Ginny said, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. Parvati and Lavender sent sly grins to one another. Ginny hurriedly changed the topic. "Anyway, I've been thinking about the shrine."

Ron continued to send suspicious glances towards his sister while the rest of the group discussed their plans.

"We're going to have to put it all up in one go," Ginny continued. "And we'll have to do it at night. Harry, you'll need to bring the map, and make sure no one is near." She turned to Hermione. "If a student is near, you'll have to go distract them; as Head Girl, it won't seem unusual for you to make rounds, making sure no students are out after curfew. If it's a teacher, you'll have to try the same tactic and hope it works. Get them moving _away_ from the shrine, whatever you do."

Hermione nodded, responding, "That makes the most sense. Have we got everything ready?"

"I've been researching some charms," Lavender replied. "I can make a field of grass, though it will have to be rather small. Flowers won't be a problem. Parvati can transfigure something into an arch, and I'll charm some roses to climb on it."

"I can cast some illusions, as well," Parvati said. "Of a dear, a bunny or two, very cutesy things. I can't guarantee they'll last very long though; a day is the longest anything has lasted so far. Though, I suppose I could try and renew the illusions."

Hermione was impressed; illusions were very hard to cast, and even harder to maintain. That Parvati could even cast an illusion at all was impressive. That she could maintain one for longer than a few hours was downright envy-inducing. If Hermione hadn't been able to hold an illusion for just as long, she might actually be jealous of Parvati.

"The doll has already been made," Harry added. "And we've got the poems; I can start making copies of those. I'll be sure to post them up and down the corridors while in my cloak. Any ideas how we can pin this on Malfoy?"

"I'll steal a bit of his parchment," Ginny volunteered. "Then I can copy that and Harry, you can copy the poems onto that."

"Just how do you think you're going to be able to steal Malfoy's parchment?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"I'll run into him, literally, and cause him to drop his bag. Or I can use a spell to rip his bag, so that the contents spill. I'll help him pick his things up and pocket the parchment as I do."

"Any more ideas?" Lavender asked.

"I can do fairy lights, for the arch. And I'll cast some firefly illusions. That, coupled with a small meadow, animals, and the flower-covered arch should make for an interesting shrine."

"We'll have to remember the doll, as well. And maybe a poster or two of Snape," Parvati added, as if an afterthought. "We still have some pictures left. We can enlarge them and hang them inside the shrine. The candles and incense will be no problem, either. Though, we'll have to remember to cast a fire-proofing charm."

"Well, it seems we've thought of everything," Hermione said, grinning.

"Not everything..." Harry said.

"What have we left out?"

"Only task nineteen!"

"And just what is this latest task?" Hermione asked, curiously.

"This task," Lavender informed her, "is to drop vague hints to Snape that Filch likes him a little more than strictly necessary."

Ron and Harry snickered while Hermione looked at the group in shock. Filch and Snape?! She forced her mind away from the mental images.

"And just how vague shall these hints be?" she asked.

"Well, not so vague he doesn't realize exactly what you mean," Parvati said. "Very subtle, yet hard to misunderstand."

"Yes, a sort of 'have you ever noticed the way Filch stares at you?' type of thing," Ginny added. "Don't actually come out and say it; make him think of it himself."

"How long does this task last?" Hermione asked, realizing they hadn't set any sort of limit.

"We weren't actually able to come up with an appropriate duration," Parvati informed her.

"But Snape needs to understand," Ron said, "just exactly what it is you're hinting at."

"Hint as many times as you need to. Preferably until Snape is afraid to be in the same room with Filch," Harry smirked.

"But just because we've set no limit, don't shirk," Ginny said in a mock-serious tone.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Hermione said, all innocence.

"Of course not," Lavender said sarcastically.

"So, until Snape gets the message... This should be interesting," Hermione murmured, more to herself than the group.

-99-

Plans were made by the group to erect the shrine the following night. During the day, Hermione was to proceed with her latest task. She wasn't quite sure how she was going to manage it, however. She never really had the time or opportunity to speak alone with Snape. And implying that Filch might have more than a professional interest in Snape was not something she wanted to do in front of others. She supposed she could wait after class, but she wasn't sure how she could incorporate Filch into the conversation. Luckily, Hermione's first opportunity came far sooner than she could have imagined.

She was on her way to her Arithmancy class, and therefore walking alone; she was the only one of her friends who took that particular class. Turning the corner a little too sharply, she ran full force into Snape, causing him to stumble and her to bounce off his chest. She lost her balance, dropped her school bag and, scrambling for anything to hold on to, grabbed two handfuls of his robes. However, instead of helping her to regain her equilibrium, it instead caused Snape to lose the little balance he had just recovered. The pair tried to remain upright, each overcompensating for the other, but only managed to make the situation worse.

Snape tried to hold onto Hermione so she wouldn't fall backwards and take him with her; she was, after all, still clutching his robes. Hermione could do little but hold tighter to Snape's robes as the man toppled backwards, pulling her unceremoniously with him. He threw his arms back to catch himself, grunting in pain as he landed on the hard stone floor. Hermione finally let go of Snape's robes with one hand as she fell, trying to throw an arm out to catch herself, but only managing to frantically wave her arm about, unintentionally hitting Snape in the jaw as she did so.

She ended up landing in a heap right on top of the man, who once again emitted a loud grunt of pain. Snape managed to lean up on his elbows, taking a moment to rub his jaw, and looked down at the heap of black robes and pile of bushy hair that was Hermione Granger.

"Professor Snape, I'm so sorry!" Hermione immediately blurted out. She cringed, waiting for him to berate her for her clumsiness. He said nothing, continuing to stare down at her, his jaw clenched. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, and I hope I didn't hurt you," she continued, hoping to placate him by admitting that it was all her fault.

"Miss Granger," he finally ground out, "I would very much appreciate it if you would slowly–carefully!–remove your knee from its current resting place."

It took a moment for Hermione to understand what he meant. One of her knees was resting on the cold stone floor. The other was–the other was dangerously close to a piece of anatomy that no man wanted a knee resting on.

She felt her face reddening as she hastily–yet carefully–moved her knee, so that it was beside the other, upon the floor. Now she was kneeling next to Snape, instead of on top of him. She lowered her head, hoping he wouldn't notice that her face was on fire; though, even if he didn't see it, surely he could feel the heat emanating from her!

As Snape continued to sit up, none other than Filch hurried up to them, smiling obsequiously at Snape and leering at Hermione.

"What's this then?" he asked, while Mrs. Norris glared at them. "A little fun before class?" he asked suggestively.

Snape's head whipped around to meet Filch's stare so fast Hermione winced. "Most certainly not!" he all but roared. He stood up and Hermione scrambled to her feet as well. She tried to edge away from both men, but Filch kept sending sly glances her way.

"This little scene I stumbled upon certainly suggests otherwise," Filch responded, his tone suggestive, looking Snape up and down as he did.

"There was nothing untoward occurring between Miss Granger and myself. Her inherent Gryffindor clumsiness merely sent us tumbling to the ground. But I do not have to answer to the likes of you, Filch, so I suggest you remove yourself immediately from my presence." He continued to look down his nose as Filch snickered to himself and walked away.

Hermione had hoped that Snape would also leave, but instead he watched impassively as she collected the items which had fallen from her bag. She ignored him, mostly because she wasn't sure what to do or say. When she had at last finished gathering her items, she slowly stood, waiting for whatever Snape was going to say.

He stared at her for a moment, not exactly glaring at her, but his expression was not, by any accounts, a friendly one. "Take no notice of Filch," he finally said, so abruptly Hermione almost jumped. "He is a disgusting lecher; I would avoid him, if at all possible."

Hermione realized that Snape was angrier with Filch than he was with her. This could be the perfect opportunity to begin the task.

"Why don't you then?" At his blank look, she continued. "Avoid him?"

"I meant, I would avoid him if I were you, Miss Granger," he stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh," Hermione said, as if she had not known all along that was what he meant. "It was just that you said he was lecherous, then implied you would avoid him if you could... And with the looks he was giving you just now... I misunderstood," Hermione said, trying to make her story believable. Hermione had been close enough to Snape when Filch first appeared that it would be hard to discern just who the man had been leering at.

"What looks?" Snape asked sharply.

Hermione froze, trying to look as though she had just said something she shouldn't have. After being friends with Hagrid for so long, it wasn't a hard task.

"Never mind, Professor Snape," she said meekly. "I'm surely late for class by now, and you must have–"

Snape cut her off, asking again, "What looks?"

"Well, he was sort of...leering... at you," Hermione said timidly. Inwardly, she smirked; it would appear she was a good actress after all.

Snape rolled his eyes. "He was leering at _you_, which is why I advised you to stay away from him."

"Well, that's what I thought at first, as well. But then I had moved away from you and his leers were still being sent in your direction..." she trailed off.

Snape's eyes widened, before he quickly took control of himself, his face once more a mask of stoicism. "You are mistaken."

"Perhaps," she said. "Except... Never mind. I'm late for class, I really must go," she said, starting to turn around.

"Wait! Except what, Miss Granger?" he asked, almost urgently.

"Well...he does seem to follow you around quite a bit. I mean, is it really just coincidence that he was _right there_ when we fell?" She let that sink in, before continuing, "And, have you ever noticed how he seems to stare at you a lot?" Hermione tried to keep from laughing; truth be told, she had never noticed Filch following Snape, nor had she noticed him staring.

She could see Snape's jaw clench as he glared at her. "Get to class, Miss Granger!"

Not willing to test her luck any further, she went. Smiling the whole way.

_**TBC...**_

**A/N**: Oh what evilness. I almost feel sorry for Snape, thinking that Filch might lust after him. There are more 'vague hints' yet to come! We see the shrine (finally!) in the next chapter. And the next task will make it's debut: Make casual but loud references to Harry Potter being considered for an Order of Merlin. Please keep in mind that the next chapter (16) will NOT be here on Thursday. That schedule is no over. From now on, the chapters will make their debut as soon as I finish them.

Thanks again for reading and reviewing!


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **I have no idea if prefects and/or Head Girls actually patrol the corridors, according to canon. I never could imagine that it would be one of their duties; what kind of school makes students stay out late on school nights, wandering the halls? It never made any sense to me, but then again, I've never been to a boarding school. It could be the norm, for all I know. But, since it is a very fanon thing for characters to do, and it does make everything a lot easier for me, the prefects and Head Boy and Girl will have to patrol corridors (though this will mainly occur when it is convenient for the fic).

I also don't know if the Great Hall is on the ground floor, but it seems logical to me. And yes, it might seem like a cliche to have Lucius and Draco end up as 'good guys' (or as good as a Malfoy can be, anyway) but it needed to happen. You'll see why.

**Disclaimers: **Usual disclaimers apply. Also, this shrine is not representative of anything more than my own imagination...as far as I know, there is no significance whatsoever, nor any correlation to any religion or belief system. Furthermore, I really do not recommend using all those scents at once, because firstly, they would be too strong and the room you were using them in would be filled with too many conflicting scents, and secondly, because most of those particular scents are produced artificially, and would not smell as good as the real things (though I do not recommend using the real scents either, because the scent would be too strong, and it would end up being far too expensive).

Also, I rushed through the editing to get this story to you guys sooner, so please let me know if I make any canon mistakes or whatnot. Thanks again!

**Chapter 16: The Shrine**

**The Continuation of Tasks 14, 15, and 19**

**Task 20: **Make casual but loud references to Harry Potter being considered for an Order of Merlin.

**Duration: **All day

After supper, while in the Common Room, the group discussed Hermione's success with the nineteenth task.

"He actually warned you off Filch?" Harry asked, holding back laughter.

"Yes, and he was quite serious about it. As if I'd go out of my way to seek Filch's company," Hermione responded with a shudder. "But he did seem terrified at the thought that I could be right about Filch's affections."

"I reckon this will have him more paranoid than ever," Ron chimed in, gleefully.

"Well done, Hermione," Ginny said, grinning. "Now if you can mention it a few more times, he may run screaming in the other direction whenever Filch is around."

"Now that would be hilarious!" Parvati laughed. "And speaking of hilarious..."

"Ah, yes," Lavender said. "Task twenty."

"Already?" Hermione asked, resigned. Though, truth be told, she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

"Yes, already," Harry told her. "We've decided that you seem quite skilled enough to have two or three tasks going at once."

"You always were an overachiever," Ron said, winking at her.

"This task is to make casual, but loud, references to Harry Potter being considered for an Order of Merlin," Ginny announced.

The group laughed, imagining Snape's outrage. "But wait," Hermione began, "why, exactly, should he be considered for an Order of Merlin?"

"Well, you could go the serious route," Parvati answered. "His deeds in the war and all that."

"Or you could go for the funnier route," Harry told her. "For random things, such as how neat and tidy my hair always looks." He gave her a wry grin and ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair.

"Or perhaps how well his clothes always match," Ginny said, a twist to her lips.

"How cute he looks in glasses," Lavender added.

The suggestions went on, from how proficient he was in Potions (not very) to how well he could walk in a straight line and on to his abilities with a broom. In the end, Hermione was left with a great many suggestions that would no doubt infuriate Snape.

They confirmed their plans to meet that night and erect the shrine. The scheduling was perfect; Hermione, as Head Girl, and Ginny and Ron, as prefects, all had to patrol the halls that night anyway. Best of all, the schedules indicated that Snape was _not_ patrolling that night. Though, as the group well knew, that didn't really mean anything. Snape could–and did–patrol even when it was not his scheduled time to do so.

They decided to meet at midnight in the Common Room, which should be late enough to ensure everyone else was in their dorms. Hermione, Ginny, and Ron would go down first, seeing as they had an actual reason for being out of their dorms so late. If the Common Room was empty, they would fetch the others. If it wasn't, Hermione wasn't sure what to do. Ron suggested using dungbombs–Ron always suggested using dungbombs, for anything–but Hermione was loathe to stink up her Common Room. Not to mention that, if there were only a few people there, it would be quite obvious who had set off the dungbomb, and call more attention to them. Which rather defeated the purpose.

She resolved to cross that bridge when she came to it. The group began to study for their N.E.W.T.s; even though it was only December (a fact Ron pointed out anytime Hermione suggested he study), she was not convinced that the others knew the material from previous years. Harry was, of course, quite proficient when it came to Defense Against the Dark Arts–anyone who defeated Voldemort would have to be–but he was far behind in his other subjects. And Ron was worse off even than Harry. The pair had finally dropped Divination and gone to Care of Magical Creatures instead. Harry found his chances were better in that class; yes, he might lose a hand, but at least no one was predicting his imminent demise.

All of them were taking Potions, a fact which surprised Hermione. Truth be told, she had thought Ron, Parvati and Lavender would drop the class as soon as possible. Harry, of course, needed the credit if he was to become an Auror, and Hermione, though still uncertain of what she would do come graduation, had always liked the class, despite Snape. But it seemed Lavender needed to become skilled in Potions if she was ever to live her dream, which was to start her own line of Wizarding Beauty Products. Parvati, uncertain of her own future, had decided to help Lavender in her endeavor, and found she quite liked brewing various beauty potions. As for Ron, she rather thought he only took the class because of a lack of any other class to take. He would rather be in a class he hated with his friends than in a class he liked better, but without them.

Thoughts of Potions led her, inexorably, to thoughts of the Potions Master. She had been surprised that he had warned her of Filch though, as a teacher, she supposed that was part of his responsibilities. She had to admit that he was a good professor. In her seven years of the class, not once had anyone ever been seriously hurt. Minor mishaps, like Neville melting his cauldron or Neville adding the wrong ingredient or Neville making other mistakes, but never anything serious. Given that the classes had held both Slytherins and Gryffindors, that was no small accomplishment. Hermione now realized that, because of Snape's harsh demeanor and harsher punishments, none of the students had dared to goof off. The odd insult, perhaps, but for the most part, they remained focussed on their work. Which, of course, resulted in less injuries. She did not know for certain how the other classes fared, but she had never heard of any serious mishap occurring in the dungeons. She supposed she should be grateful to Snape and his foul moods, but couldn't really bring herself to feel more than a trifle thankful.

It was soon nearing nine and Hermione decided that it would be a good idea to get a few hours sleep before they had to meet up to erect the shrine. Saying goodnight to the group, she left the Common Room and headed to her own room. While it was in the same tower as the Gryffindor Common Room and dorm rooms, it did not connect to the Common Room. As she made her way towards her room, she had the distinct feeling that someone was watching her. She wasn't sure how she knew, but she could tell that she was not alone in the corridor, despite being unable to see anyone else. She slipped her wand to her hand, holding it comfortably, alert for any noises or movement.

She made it to her room without incident, shaking her head and berating herself for her paranoia. However, when she opened the door, a surprise was waiting for her. This time, there were two bunnies on her bed. She stopped short, scanning the room. _How awkward would that be, running into Snape in my rooms? Bad enough running into him in the hall!__Literally._ She relaxed when she found no one, but was suddenly sure who had been in the corridor with her. She would bet her last Galleon that it had been Snape, waiting for her.

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at her desk. Or rather, the note, neatly folded, that rested on her desk. Crossing the room with quick strides, she snatched the note, unfolded it and read to herself.

_Did you know that rabbits are among the fastest reproducing mammals currently in existence? They can easily double and even triple their populations in a very short time. _

Hermione stared at the short note, idly wondering if rabbits really _were_ the fastest reproducing mammals in the world. But what did she care about rabbit populations? Unless he had given her a male and female rabbit, she had nothing to worry about. They couldn't breed _that_ fast, surely. She eyed the rabbits, wondering if she would be able to tell their genders just by looking.

Then it hit her. Snape didn't mean the rabbits were going to breed so fast she'd soon be mobbed by white rabbits. He meant that he would double–or even triple–the amount of rabbits she gave him. So that for every rabbit she left him, he would give her two, or even three. Her eyes widened at the thought. She tried to imagine the outcome of the task: she would give Snape these two rabbits, he would return four to her, she would give those four back, and later would find twelve rabbits in her rooms. She laughed aloud at the thought of trying to sneak twelve rabbits into Snape's office, but soon sobered at the thought of twelve rabbits running wild in her room.

She decided enough was enough. As of now, the task was off, regardless of what the rest of the group said. There was no way she was going to end up having to get rid of twenty four rabbits, or thirty six, or any amount over two.

That was that, she decided. Task fifteen was officially closed. _Good riddance!_

-99-

Hermione awoke at a quarter to midnight. She pulled on her robes, making sure the rabbits were secure in the cage she had Transfigured from a sock. She tried to figure out just what she would do with them, now that she had abandoned the task, but had a wonderful idea. She would add the rabbits to the shrine. Yes, it would mean that Snape would know _exactly_ who had erected the shrine, but it wasn't as if he wouldn't have been able to figure it out anyway. And they didn't really expect Snape to believe that Malfoy had any part in it; that was more to embarrass Malfoy in front of the rest of the school than to make Snape wonder if the blond had any interest in him.

Hermione felt her lips start to curl into a smile, but felt the smile slide from her face when she thought of how she would get the rabbits from her room to the site of the shrine. While she was allowed to be in the corridors because she was Head Girl, it would look odd if she were found patrolling the corridors while carrying a cage containing two rabbits. She didn't dare try and Transfigure the rabbits themselves; they were only just learning how to Transfigure one living creature into another living creature. She decided that the only way to transport the rabbits would be to carry them, hidden in a pocket in her robes. She would carry one and someone else could carry the other.

That decided, she removed the rabbits from the cage and stuck one in her robe's inner left pocket and the other in the right pocket. She could feel the rabbits weighing down her robe and hoped that it was voluminous enough to hide two rabbit-shaped lumps squirming in the pockets. She hugged her robes closer, praying that neither rabbit would fall out of the pocket–she had no idea how she would explain _that_.

She made it to the Common Room without mishap, finding it empty save for her friends. Harry had the map out and was consulting it with Ron. Hermione walked over to them and reached into her robes, pulling out each rabbit.

"Here," she said, holding them out. "Someone needs to carry these. Ron, your pockets look large, have a bunny." She extended her left hand towards him, waiting for him to take the rabbit. He did so gingerly, as if afraid he might break it if he held it too tightly. "Who else has large pockets?"

"Hermione, why do you have _two_ rabbits?" Ginny asked.

"Do you even have to ask? Snape, of course. He left these two in my rooms, along with a note," she said, handing the rabbit to Parvati, who cooed over it while Lavender rubbed its ears.

"A note? What did it say?" asked Harry, looking a bit concerned.

"Basically, that for every rabbit I give him, he'll double or even triple the amount. He didn't say so in so many words, of course, but that's what he meant." The group looked somewhat shocked. Ron was outraged that Snape would enter her rooms again; Harry worried that maybe Hermione was in over her head, if Snape really was going to fight back; Ginny smirked in appreciation of Snape's comeback; Lavender wondered if maybe she could keep both rabbits; and Parvati speculated on the fact that Snape was now leaving Hermione private notes in her rooms, warning her of his plans. Not a very Snape-like thing to do, to be sure. Parvati had rather thought Snape to be the type to plan one horrible, evil, cruel comeback, so bad that it would make Hermione regret she had even thought to take Snape on, let alone acted on the thought. Yet here he was, drawing the game out, almost as if he was waiting for Hermione's next move, almost as though he were...curious. An interesting thought, that.

"So, because of that, I have decided that this is the end of Task Fifteen. No more rabbits for me or Snape," Hermione announced. The group pretended to grumble, but could see her logic. Task fifteen was no longer worth trying. But no bother, they had plenty left that were.

"What are you going to do with these two then?" Lavender asked, her blue eyes hopeful.

"I was going to add them to the shrine. After that though, I have no idea. Do you want them?" Hermione asked, as if it wasn't obvious that Parvati and Lavender adored the rabbits. Hermione thought they were cute, but didn't think them the best companions for a witch with a cat. It was luck alone that Crookshanks had been out exploring the castle rather than in her rooms when Snape had left the rabbits; if not for that, Crooks might have eaten one or both. Hermione pushed away the images of entering her room to find a half-eaten rabbit on her bed.

Of course, Lavender wanted both rabbits, but agreed that she would keep one and Parvati could have the other. But for tonight, they were to act as live entertainment in the shrine. Hermione made a mental note to add a Containment Charm and a Shielding Charm around the section the rabbits were in. No point putting them in the shrine if they could hop out, or if a cat could find them and make off with a free meal.

The map consulted and the rabbits hidden away, the group made their way towards the ground floor. Hermione, Ginny, and Ron were allowed to be out after hours; Parvati, Lavender, and Harry were not, which was why Harry kept the map open and checked it periodically to ensure their path was clear. Ginny walked half a corridor behind the group, ready to cough–or greet a professor–loudly if she heard or saw anyone. Ron walked half a corridor in front of the group, also keeping watch. Hermione was already pulling ahead of even Ron, hurrying to the shrine's site so that she could lead any professors away, should it come to that. And, just in case, Harry had his invisibility cloak. If worst came to worst, Lavender and Parvati could hide under it, and Harry would hope for a professor who wouldn't be too hard on a war hero unable to sleep and wandering the corridors instead.

Hermione made her way down the staircases, managing to jump onto the last one just as it started to shift towards the ground floor. The shrine's location had been chosen because it was one of the main halls, and everyone used it on their way from their common room to the Great Hall. And it also had an alcove perfect to erect the small altar (a large stone Harry had reduced in size and carried in his pocket), candles (currently in Parvati's non-rabbit occupied pocket), and incense (in Lavender's pockets). Hermione walked up and down the corridor, trying to listen for any professors' or other prefects' foot steps. No one...no one...no one...

Foot steps! Hermione started coughing loudly, just in case the group was near. Though hopefully, Harry was able to warn them that someone was nearby.

"Sick, Granger?" Malfoy sneered. Hermione tried to hide her smirk; since he and his father had defected from the Death Eaters (for reasons still unbeknownst to even Harry; Hermione suspected only Dumbledore, and perhaps Snape, the man partly responsible for their change of heart, knew the whole story), she had noticed that Malfoy just didn't seem that bad. Especially when compared to the rest of the Death Eaters she had faced during the final battle. Yes, he was still his arrogant self, and yes, he still tried to act the bigoted pure-blood, but he could be okay. For a Slytherin. Hermione found their strange relationship rather funny, truth be told.

"I hope not, Malfoy," Hermione replied.

"Good. I wouldn't want your mudblood germs to infect me," he shot back, though she could see the wry twist to his mouth that indicated he was joking and trying to act his former self. It was a strange joke between the two of them that only Ginny really seemed to understand, though she suspected Harry was beginning to come around. Lavender and Parvati agreed that Draco was one of the most gorgeous boys in Hogwarts, Slytherin or no, but they also agreed they wouldn't date him for his _personality_. And Ron–well, Ron was Ron.

"Well, we all know how catching mudblood-ism is," she returned, rolling her eyes. "I can't tell you the number of stories I read in the Daily Prophet reporting more and more purebloods suddenly becoming infected. And what's worse," she continued, lowering her voice to a stage whisper, "there's no cure."

Unable to hide his smirk, Draco let it show, raising one pale eyebrow at the same time. "Where are your two goons tonight, Granger?"

"Where are yours?" She shot back, referring to Crabbe and Goyle, both of whom had been too stupid to be considered for the role of Death Eaters, and had been left alone during the war. Draco no longer fraternized with them if he could help it, but there just weren't many Slytherin seventh years left. Nott had fled and was still missing, though no one held out much hope that he'd survived. Blaise and Pansy had been killed while fighting for the Death Eaters and Millicent had been killed as well, though she was fighting _against_ the Death Eaters. It had taken Slytherin deaths on their side to really convince Harry that not all Slytherins were evil, a fact which he still felt guilty about.

"Touche," Malfoy said, giving a small, courtly bow. "As lovely as your company is, I must continue with my prefect duties. Until we next meet."

"Good night," she said, pretending to walk in the opposite direction. When she could no longer hear his footsteps, she returned to the shrine's site and waited for the others. They arrived in moments.

"Pretty cozy with Malfoy, aren't you?" asked Ron suspiciously.

Hermione sighed. "Yes, Ron. The real reason I wanted to come down here was for a three minute assignation with my favourite Slytherin," she said dryly. "You caught me."

Everyone laughed, including Ron. Hermione quickly sobered however; they had a job to do, and little time in which to do it.

"Okay, Harry, keep the map out at all times, and make sure you watch it carefully. At any sign of a professor, either Ginny or Ron will need to try and distract them and lead them away. Lavender, you can start charming the grass. Ron, you put up the enlarged copies of the posters going down that part of the corridor," Hermione said, pointing to the right. "Ginny, you go to the left. Check the map first and make sure no one is coming, and listen for footsteps. Harry, make sure and check the map and warn them of anyone coming."

"What about the rabbit?" Ron asked, pulling the rabbit in question from his pocket. "Eurgh, I think it _peed_ in my pocket!"

"Just leave it for now," Hermione snapped, trying hard not to laugh at the outrage on Ron's face. "We can't use them until the shrine is completely finished. Parvati, you can set up the actual shrine part in that alcove there. I'll help you first, then Lavender."

Parvati gathered the items for the shrine, letting Hermione restore the pebble to it's actual size. She placed it in the middle of the alcove, leaving enough room for the candles and incense Parvati was arranging in a circle around the stone. She set four candles in a cross shape around the 'altar' (a red rose-scented candle, a purple lavender-scented candle, a white jasmine scented candle, and a pink sweetpea-scented candle) and in between each candle, set up the incense (vanilla, sandalwood, cedarwood, and gardenia). Parvati was about to light them, but Hermione stopped her. With the scents assembled, lighting them all at once would probably create a smell strong enough to lure everyone on patrol to this very spot. She set the Containment Charm as Parvati set the Anti-Fire Charm, doing it now so they wouldn't forget later.

Parvati continued to work on the shrine, posting the pictures and arranging the doll, as Hermione turned to help Lavender. By that time, Lavender had already created the grass and was transfiguring an arch from an old quill. Hermione started to charm some flowers; transfiguring them all would take too much time, and using an illusion would take too much energy. The charmed flowers wouldn't look as good as illusions or transfigurements, but they would do well enough. Lavender joined her, and they dotted the grassy landscape with poppies, violets, daisies, and bluebells. Hermione added a few red rose bushes while Lavender charmed a patch of tulips. Parvati joined them, charming moonflower to twine over and around the arch, opening their white petals to the scant candlelight illuminating the hall.

Ron and Ginny returned from posting the poems. Hermione directed Ginny to add the Containment Charms to the small field and Ron to place the parchment and quill Ginny had somehow managed to get from Malfoy. She set a Shielding Charm around the small field, then turned her wand towards making Illusions, motioning for Parvati to join her.

Hermione pointed her wand above the shrine, picturing soft, golden sunlight. She closed her eyes, thinking hard of the sight of warm light seeping down from the ceiling, dust motes dancing in the illumination. She cast the spell, holding tight to the image of sunlight, and opened her eyes to see her vision turned to reality. Light spilled from the ceiling, casting the field in its glow. The light wasn't warm, and it didn't look _exactly_ like sunlight, but it was only an illusion and not the real thing, after all. She took a deep breath, trying to relax her tensed muscles as she watched Parvati cast her own illusion. The outline of a doe soon became visible, solidifying as Parvati concentrated. Hermione silently congratulated her; she was a better witch than she first appeared.

"What's left?" Ginny asked, as Parvati and Ron released their rabbits into 'the wild.'

"Have we got the doll?" Hermione asked.

"Check," Parvati answered.

"The poems are posted?"

"Check," Ron and Ginny replied.

"The pictures are in the shrine?"

"Yes."

"I know the candles, incense, and altar are assembled. I can see that the field is ready. The archway looks finished. The Containment and Shielding Charms have been cast, as has the Anti-Fire Charm. The Illusions are done. Have we suitably set up poor Draco?" Hermione asked, laughing at the look on the Slytherin's face once he saw he'd been framed. She worried that he would know she had been apart of it, seeing as how he'd run into her in the exact spot that had become the shrine, but she decided she would deal with that when and if it occurred.

"Well, I've left a piece of his parchment, which now bears his _name_," Ginny answered, rolling her eyes, "and one of his quills. I wouldn't put it past him to have marked that in some way as well. I think that should suitably imply he had something to do with it."

"Okay, shrine complete, Slytherin implied, altar set up. We'll have to wait to light the candles and incense...The scent may warn professors," Hermione paused, an unpleasant thought making itself known. "Speaking of professors... What if one of them on patrol finds the shrine and dismantles it?"

The group stared back at her, unable to come up with a solution. "A Keep Away Ward?" Harry finally asked.

"Won't the professors recognize a Keep Away Ward? That might just make them more curious to see what was being warded," Lavender pointed out.

"Good point. How about a Nothing Is Here Ward?"

"Can you cast one?" Parvati asked. "They're supposed to be really difficult to properly cast."

"I can cast the ward," Harry said quietly. Hermione and Ron both knew, firsthand, that he could cast the ward; in the middle of the last battle, he had wasted valuable time and power casting the ward on the hiding place of his two wounded best friends. He wouldn't listen to their assurances that they were fine on their own; he claimed he wouldn't have been able to concentrate if he had been worrying over their fates. Hermione had believed him, but often wondered what it had cost Harry, to ensure their safety and leave them behind, having to go on to what had probably been the most terrifying moment of his life alone, with no one at his side and no one to guard his back.

Parvati and Lavender looked suitably impressed. A Nothing Is Here Ward was a ward that, when cast on a certain location, would make anyone in the area believe nothing was there. It was less obvious than a Keep Away Ward; with the Keep Away Ward, a witch or wizard was convinced they had to stay away from the area. But it didn't stop them from wondering what the ward was guarding. The Nothing is Here Ward was more effective than the Keep Away Ward. No one stopped to think whether a ward was guarding nothing; after all, if nothing was there, why would it be warded?

The group moved away from the area while Harry cast the spell. Even though they would know he had warded the area, the ward would still work on them, convincing them nothing was there. The enchantment would wear off by morning; the only downside to the spell was that the ward was remarkably short-lived, and therefor not suitable to long-term wardings.

The others stayed back as Harry closed his eyes, frowning in concentration. Hermione watched Harry as he set the ward, watched the sweat break out along his nose and brow, watched the small grimace he made as he came to the most difficult part, watched his shoulders sag in exhaustion as he finished. Even knowing what was hidden beneath the ward, even knowing the ward was there, as soon as she cast her eyes to the site of the shrine, the spell cast its own magic over her. _Nothing is here_, ran through her mind, over and over. She couldn't even try to catch a glimpse of the shrine behind the ward; as soon as her eyes landed on the ward, the magic convinced her that nothing was there. Not a shrine, not a field, _nothing_. It wasn't that she forgot the shrine; she knew there was a shrine somewhere, but it clearly was not in the spot she was looking, because there was _nothing_ in the spot where she was looking.

She turned her head away, the spell's magic broken. "Very nicely done, Harry," she said quietly, meeting his haunted eyes. He had never told Ron or Hermione exactly what he had endured, after he had protected the two of them. Had never shared the details, never shared how hard it must have been to continue on alone, how scared he must have felt. But Hermione knew; it was there in his eyes, a desperate, aching sadness seeping from his eyes, only to be covered with an expression of relief mingled with grief and regret. Hermione watched the expressions dance across his face, watched Harry try to pull himself together after casting the spell.

Wordlessly, Hermione walked over to him, Ron moving just as silently with her, shadowing her movements. She wrapped her arms around Harry's waist, wincing when his arms came around her hard enough to hurt. Ron was at their side, wrapping his longer arms around both of them. She didn't know how long they stood that way–minutes, hours, time was insubstantial. By the time they pulled away, the trio discovered that Lavender, Ginny, and Parvati had already returned to the dormitory, leaving them in privacy. The haunted look had faded from Harry's eyes, replaced with gratitude and understanding. They walked arm in arm through the castle, Hermione between them, lost in their thoughts.

None of them noticed the gleaming blond hair or speculative look of the first Slytherin. And they certainly didn't notice the inky darkness that detached itself from the shadows to form into the shape of a tall, dark-haired man with narrowed eyes glaring at the trio's backs.

And none of them–the trio, the blond, nor the darker man–noticed the twinkling blue eyes that seemed to float through the darkness, casting illumination in their wake. A soft, kindly chuckle was the last sound to dance through the corridor until morning.

-99-

**A/N: **I'm sorry that took so long. I've been having some Real Life problems that came up, but hopefully I'll be able to update sooner now. And I do realize this chapter was a little darker, a little more serious near the end, especially for a comedy/parody, but work with me. Some of this stuff needs to come out now, so that it won't get in the way later. And I like to think it adds a little substance to this fic, so that it's more than just random silliness. No need to fear though, the silliness returns in the next chapter, in which we see the students' and faculty's response to the shrine; see more Draco and find out exactly what it was he saw and his reaction; see our favourite Potions Master; and perhaps we may see the beginning of a romance.

Fifty points to your house if you're able to guess the two involved in said romance. Though, of course, I won't be able to tell you if you're right until the chapter after next. And no, sorry, it's not Hermione and Snape. Not in the next chapter, anyway. Thanks again for reading!

One last thing... The idea for the Nothing Is Here ward came from somewhere other than my own imagination, though I can't for the life of me remember where. I'm pretty sure it was a book, not fanfiction, but I just can't remember. Just thought I'd clear that up, in case someone recognizes it.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: **The fifty points go to Risi! I was amused by all of the people who were absolutely certain that the pairing was Ginny/Draco. Lesson One: don't trust me. Things are not always what they seem. I can see why you might have guessed that (I was purposely leading you all astray), but we'll see the real reason behind their closeness. As for Hermione/Draco, I'm not against a DM/HG pairing, but it's just not right for this story. I think you'll see why soon enough.

To address a few things: Yes, we will learn a little more about what Harry endured during The War. Not everything, not every little detail and thought, but some. I didn't just stick that last bit in for kicks; we need to learn a bit more about Harry and what he's suffered, because that information will make his later actions/decisions make more sense.

I'm glad it's clear that Lavender and Parvati aren't brainless. I really think they have potential. As for Ron, well he's not quite as bright as the rest of them, but he has his moments. You'll see more of their potential.

Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing. And just a little warning, I'm having surgery tomorrow (just gallbladder removal, nothing big) so there may be a wait for the next chapter, depending on how my recovery goes. Thank you all for being so understanding!

**Disclaimers:** Usual disclaimers apply. May be considered a cliche, has been done before, I'm not J.K. Rowling, don't like it, don't read it... yadda yadda.

**Chapter 17: Draco's Secret...**

_...In which we learn the identity of Draco's secret love_

**The continuation of:**

**Task 14: Set up a shrine to him. Somewhere very public**

**Task 19: Drop vague hints that Filch likes him a little more than is strictly necessary**

**Task 20: Make casual but loud references to Harry Potter being considered for an Order of Merlin**

Hermione awoke that morning with a start, knowing there was something important about the day, but her sleep-clouded brain having trouble coming up with the reason that particular day was important. When she did realize, she sat up in her bed so fast that Crookshanks, who had been asleep on her chest, was flung to the floor. He gave a small _mrow_ of disgust, before settling into the perfect position, as if he had meant to end up on the floor to finish his nap.

Hermione had no time for apologies; she rushed into her clothing, quickly ran a brush through her hair before putting it in a messy bun, grabbed her book bag and made her way to the Common Room. Her mind was racing and her stomach was full of butterflies, though whether from fear or excitement, dread or anticipation, she couldn't say. She was about to give the password when the group piled out, Ron bringing up the rear.

"Where have you been?" Lavender asked, looking askance at Hermione's tangled bun of hair.

"I woke up late," she replied, as they made their way to the Great Hall.

"A fine day to wake up late," Harry chided.

"Do you think anyone has seen it yet?" Ginny asked.

"Who can say? We'll know soon enough," Parvati answered as the group walked nearer and nearer to the shrine's location.

They heard the crowd before they saw it. They were still a corridor away from the main hall where the shrine had been set up, but they could hear laughter, whispers, and the din of conversation. When they entered the hall where the shrine had been set up, they were met by a mass of students, crowding around the shrine, pointing and laughing. The group pushed their way to the front, asking other students what was going on, what everyone was looking at, and other questions those innocent of constructing a shrine would ask.

Hermione tried to hold back her laughter at her fellow students' faces. Their expressions ranged from mirth to disbelief to horror at the thought of setting up a shrine to Snape. Parvati nudged her out of the way to light the candles and incense from afar, the group shielding her so no one else would see. The scents began to flood the hall at once, spiraling plumes of smoke mingling with the fake sunlight still glowing down on the shrine. Students looked around to see who had lit the incense, but of course, no one could tell much of anything in the throng of bodies.

It looked just as she remembered it. The moonflowers had closed in the presence of sunlight, but the roses and other flowers were fully bloomed. The two rabbits were hopping about merrily, trying to eat the charmed grass. Every once in a while, one would stand up on its hind legs, its nose working as it stared at the mass of students. This action produced a loud _awww_ from the female students every time.

Flitwick was the only teacher Hermione could see, though she was sure more would arrive any moment. Far from being upset, Flitwick seemed awed.

"Impeccable Charms work," Hermione could hear him saying to any student who would listen. "The intricate mix of Charms and Illusions is ingenious. I do believe this is the best work I've seen since Fred and George Weasley's Portable Swamp!"

"Come now, Filius," Hermione heard McGonagall's stern voice, "you're praising the Charms work?" Hermione waited for McGonagall to start trying to find the culprit. "Look at that Transfiguration! The arch is perfectly symmetrical. Those flowers look real. Really, Filius, you must look at the whole, not just focus on the Charmed part."

The group exchanged incredulous looks. Not only was McGonagall _not_ trying to find and punish whoever had set up the shrine, but she was praising them! Now they'd heard everything. Lavender practically glowed at the praise.

"Wait a minute," Parvati whispered, "where's the planted evidence?"

"The what?" Ron asked, still trying to listen to the professors' conversations.

"The quill and paper," Hermione said, her voice low. "I don't see it."

"Neither do I," said Ginny.

"Granger." Hermione jumped as she felt a hand fall on her shoulder. It was Malfoy. He didn't look happy. "I'd like a word."

"Why?" Ron demanded, moving in front of Hermione, his fingers wrapped around his wand.

"Ron, don't make a scene," Ginny said, elbowing him in the ribs.

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," Hermione replied loftily, stepping around Ron to follow Malfoy down the corridor to an empty classroom.

"Where did you get this?" Malfoy asked, holding out the parchment and quill. "_How_ did you get this?"

Hermione thought hard, but there was no feasible way to explain how she had managed to get the items; after all, she hadn't been the one to get them. She weighed her options. She could play dumb, which Malfoy would never believe. After all, he had seen her at the site of the shrine. He could tell the professors that it was she, or worse, tell the students. She could tell him a lie, but she couldn't think of one that would make sense _and_ absolve her from having set up the shrine. The only thing she could think to do was tell him the truth.

She told him the short version, leaving out many details. She watched his expression change from disbelief to humour to awe and finally to a look of grudging respect.

"So, it _was_ on purpose, all those stunts in Potions," he said.

She nodded. "But you can _not_ tell anyone."

"I wouldn't dare," Malfoy said, his eyebrows raised. "Besides, no one would believe me. Imagine, perfect, proper Miss Granger getting up to such mischief. I've underestimated you."

"You always have," she said.

He nodded. "I have one request. No, two."

She figured she owed him that. After all, he still didn't know that he had supposedly sent a picture of himself to Snape on his birthday, signing the card '_your secret admirer_.' "Ask."

"One, you stop trying to frame me for these jokes. He knows it's you, so there's no point to it anyway. And two," he paused, as if trying to get up the nerve. "I want in."

"In?" Hermione asked.

"In on the jokes. The pranks, the whole situation," he answered, nonchalantly. "As funny as it is to watch, imagine the trouble I could get into while participating."

Hermione studied him. He was trying to hide his emotions, but he was failing. She could see the eagerness in his eyes, see that he wanted to be accepted. She recognized that look; she had worn it herself, after all, the first two months she started Hogwarts. She tried to think of a way to let him down, but realized she didn't want to. Besides, he didn't have any other good friends. She realized that he must be lonely.

"Okay," she said. "But you'll have to at least try to make an effort to be nice to the rest of the group."

"The rest of the group?" he asked, his eyebrows drawn in confusion.

"It's not just me; Ginny, Harry, Ron, Lavender, and Parvati are involved, as well."

He let out his breath slowly. "I should have known Potty and the Weasel would be involved." He held up a hand when she started to chide him for berating her friends. "Fine, Potter and Weasley. But Patil and Brown? I wouldn't have thought they had it in them."

"You didn't think _I _had it in me. I think you should set yourself up to be surprised."

"I think you're right. Nothing is as it seems," he said softly, as if quoting something. "All right, regardless of your choice of partners in crime, I still want in. I'll even promise to be polite." He looked away, biting his lower lip, looking as though he wanted to continue, but didn't quite know how.

"Draco?" Hermione asked, using his first name. If he was to become a part of their group, she'd have to get used to him being Draco, not Malfoy.

"Nothing, just..." he paused. "What did Weasley tell you?" he asked abruptly.

"Ron?" she asked, confused.

"No, Ginny."

"Tell me about what?"

Another pause. "Never mind."

"Was Ginny supposed to have told me something?" Hermione asked, wondering what Draco was talking about.

"No, she wasn't. I was just making sure she hadn't."

Something struck Hermione then; the times Ginny had called him Draco, instead of Malfoy. The evasiveness about her occupied time. How she had managed to get the parchment and quill to frame Malfoy. _Draco_, she silently corrected herself.

"You and Ginny are a couple!" Hermione blurted out. She cringed the moment she said it.

"A couple?" he looked genuinely surprised. "No, of course not!"

She narrowed her eyes, trying to gauge his truthfulness. "Really?"

"Don't you think the whole school would know by now?"

"Not if you were keeping it a secret."

"Why would I keep it a secret? It would just give me another opportunity to irritate Potter and Weasley. Not a bad idea, that," he said, almost to himself.

"Well, maybe she wanted to keep it a secret, for that very reason," she shot back. She believed him, almost, but he still seemed to be hiding something.

"I wouldn't date someone who wanted to keep me a secret. Who wanted to keep our relationship a secret. If they're that ashamed of me, why would I bother?" he asked somberly, looking as though he was recalling a painful memory.

"If you're not dating Ginny, then why all the secrecy?"

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" he asked resignedly.

"No."

"Fine." He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "You have to swear you won't tell anyone," he said, his voice serious.

"I swear," she said, a little uncertainly. What could his secret be, to make him this worried and somber?

"Ginny was trying to help me get closer to someone else," he said, as if willing her to figure it out on her own.

Hermione thought of who it could be, then felt her eyes grow wide. "Me?" she squeaked. "I–that is–I'm flattered, but–"

"Not _you_, Granger. Someone here certainly thinks highly of herself," he said, his trademark smirk back in place.

"Oh," Hermione said, feeling her face grow warm and her knees sag in relief

"It's Harry," he said softly.

Hermione stared.

"I'm...I'm gay," he said simply. "Well, bisexual, I guess." He looked astonished to have told her the truth, yet strangely relieved to have shared what must have been a burden.

Hermione was stunned for a moment, unable to think of anything to say. "So you fancy males and females?" she finally asked, wincing inwardly at her stupid question.

"That would be the definition of bisexual, yes,"he said dryly.

Then what he had said really hit her. She was sure she'd misheard. "_Harry_?" He nodded. "Harry Potter?" Another nod. "_The_ Harry Potter, the one whom you've taunted since the day you met him?"

She saw his jaw clench. "That is not true," he said slowly, carefully. "The day I met him, I did nothing to 'taunt' him. I was probably obnoxious–I always was–trying to be superior and act like I knew everything," his lips twisted into a humourless grin, "but I didn't start anything with Potter until the day I offered my hand in friendship and he spurned me in front of everyone. If anyone started anything, he did."

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to think of something appropriate to say. _What do you say when your best friend's enemy suddenly declares he has feelings for what was once an rival?_ "So you want to do this to get closer to Harry?" she finally asked.

"Well, that certainly is a benefit," he said scathingly, "but I didn't know he was in on the game until you told me. You don't understand what it's like, Hermione. Crabbe and Goyle are the only Slytherin seventh-years left. I'm going out of my mind with boredom."

"And this thing you have for Harry? What about that?"

"Why are you so focussed on that?" he asked sharply, his cheeks a pale pink.

"I'm just surprised. I mean, who would have thought..."

"Look, I know it's surprising. I know it's hard to believe. Don't you think I've tried talking myself out of it?" he asked, his hands clenching in frustration.

"Can I ask Ginny about it? Maybe I can help," she said softly, hardly believing she was saying it. Who was she to offer Harry's rival help in wooing her best friend? She didn't even know if Harry was gay. He'd certainly never said anything. And he _had_ gone out with Cho, though that hadn't gone very well at all. There had been a brief romance between him and Ginny in his sixth year, but they soon realized they thought of each other as brother/sister, not boyfriend/girlfriend. Yet if Ginny was helping Draco, she must know something about Harry that Hermione didn't.

"Fine," Draco finally said. "Breakfast is probably almost over. We should leave." He spoke in short sentences, his words almost cut off. He looked worried that maybe he had shared too much.

"Don't worry, I won't tell Harry. Or anyone else, for that matter. Not that they'd believe me," she said dryly, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

She made her way to the Great Hall, deep in thought.

_Who would have thought, indeed?_

-99-

Snape paced his office before his first Potions class of the day. Third year Gryffindors and Slytherins. Just what he needed first thing in the morning. He could hear them in the classroom, whispering and laughing. He hadn't yet seen the shrine. He told himself he hadn't had the time, that the moment he saw it he might have to hex the first student–or ten–he saw. Dumbledore, altruist that he was, unfortunately frowned on such a practice.

He snorted in disgust. It wasn't the anger that had prevented him from seeking out the location of the shrine. It was the embarrassment. He knew exactly who had set it up–who else, but that ridiculous Gryffindor girl, would have the nerve? There had been a small chance he was wrong, but that small hope was quickly extinguished by Minerva, who had gone into great detail about every aspect of the shrine over coffee in the staff room–including the two white rabbits.

He had seen the trio–the girl, the redhead, and the golden boy–in the halls last night, but thought nothing of it. Hermione was Head Girl and Weasley a prefect. He couldn't chastise them for doing their patrol. As for Potter, it was hardly worth scolding the War Hero. Dumbledore was easy on the boy, as he had always been, and probably always would be. Any punishment he gave would be waved away by Dumbledore. The Headmaster had already said as much in the first staff meeting, warning the professors to be _understanding _with Potter, as he had gone through so much. Snape snorted again, harder this time. _He_ had gone through as much, if not more, during the course of the war than Potter. But he didn't demand special privileges. But some things never changed. Gryffindors stuck together, no matter what. And if it was standing against a Slytherin, the unity was even stronger. Snape had learned that long ago, the hard way.

He now knew exactly what Hermione had been doing that night, along with Potter and Weasley, perhaps even others he hadn't seen. He couldn't be sure who or how many were involved in the little game, but that didn't matter. In the end, it was between the two of them. What still struck him as odd was that he hadn't seen the shrine. He had been down that hall at least three times while making his own rounds, and there had been nothing there. _Nothing there_. Snape let out a sigh of disgust. The only explanation was that one of them had cast a Nothing Is Here Ward. He grudgingly admired the skill required to cast such a complex ward. That left Weasley out, certainly.

He should have trounced the girl when he had the chance, back when the whole fiasco started. He should have known better than to draw the game out, to give her a chance. If he knew what was good for him, he would bow out now and let the whole mess dissolve on its own. But there was no hope for that; she was as determined as she was clever, a combination which did not bode well for his hopes. But now his only option was to fight back and hope to end this as soon as possible.

Snape sighed, pushing the thoughts away. Well, there was nothing for it but to admit it. Hermione Granger had got the better of him. He had never imagined she would take the game to such a public level. Humiliating herself in front of her friends in Potions Classes was one thing. Throwing a birthday party–Snape still shuddered with disgust at the thought of Hooch's gifts–had been bad enough, but it was still relatively private. Only friends and professors, and whoever the cake dancer and belly dancers had been. But this? In full view of the entire staff and student body? That was something he would never have expected from the quiet, too smart for her own good Gryffindor. He had underestimated her.

He would not do so again.

-99-

"Ginny, I need to talk to you," Hermione murmured softly to the redhead.

Ginny looked questioningly at Hermione, then shrugged and nodded. Hermione led her out of the Common Room and towards her own room.

"Where are you two off to, then?" Ron asked, as he, Harry, Lavender, and Parvati made their way towards the Portrait to give the password.

Hermione thought hard, but was unable to come up with a good excuse. "I'm helping Ginny with some Potions work." She felt Ginny pause in mid-step next to her, looking hard at the older girl. She hoped Ginny would play along and not look too puzzled.

Ron shrugged, accepting the explanation and dismissing them when he learned they were off to do schoolwork. Lavender and Harry entered the Common Room behind Ron, clearly appeased with the explanation. Parvati looked at them a moment longer, but soon followed the rest into the Common Room. Hermione didn't think Parvati believed them–after all, she would remember Ginny was top of her class in Potions–but she was also smart enough to know when not to interfere.

Hermione gave the password to her own door, closing it firmly behind Ginny. Ginny climbed onto Hermione's bed, sitting cross legged, idly petting Crookshanks.

"So, what was it you wanted to talk to me about? It must be something secretive if you had to lie to the others about it," she said mildly.

Hermione laughed softly. "Secretive. Yes, you could say that." Hermione paused, wondering how to start. _Well, nothing for it_. "Draco told me."

Ginny froze, her hand stopping in Crooks' fur. It lasted only a moment, then she resumed petting the cat. "Did he?"

"Yes. He found the parchment and quill, and confronted me about the shrine. He...well, he wanted in. With the tasks. He's now a member of our group, by the way."

"Draco?" Ginny asked, laughing. "Oh, this should be interesting. Draco, Harry, and Ron all plotting against the Potions Master. I can't wait. But where will we do all this plotting? Draco can hardly be allowed into the Gryffindor Common Room, after all."

"I...hadn't thought of that," Hermione admitted. "The library?"

"Yes, that's very private," Ginny said wryly.

"An old classroom?"

"That will have to do. With a Silencing Charm and a few wards, that should work nicely."

"That's not exactly what I wanted to talk to you about, when I mentioned that Draco told me."

"And just what did Draco tell you?" Ginny asked, not meeting Hermione's eyes.

"That...well, that he fancies Harry," Hermione blurted out, wincing at how foolish it sounded out loud.

Ginny let out a breath. "Finally, someone I can _talk_ to about it! Honestly, Hermione, you have no idea how I've wanted to share this with someone else, but Draco swore me to secrecy. I don't know what exactly will happen if I tell–he refused to share the gruesome details–but it's something he learned from his father. As curious as I am, I was hardly willing to test him!"

"Ginny, weren't you...well, surprised when he told you?"

"About Harry? Of _course_ I was surprised! I mean, _Harry,_ of all people? But now that I've known him a while, it isn't quite as difficult to understand."

Hermione shot a look of disbelief towards the younger girl.

"No, really. I think they would be well-suited, actually." She held up a hand to stop Hermione's questions. "Hear me out. I dated Harry for a while. He's great, and I love him like a brother, but what we told everyone, that we felt more like brother/sister, wasn't entirely the truth. I had feelings for him, _real _feelings, and not the same feelings I have for my brothers," Ginny said dryly. "But Harry... I thought it was me, at first. That he just wasn't attracted to me, personally. I asked him about it, and he said...well, he said it wasn't me. That he'd felt the same way about Cho. That he thought he would have feelings for both of us, but he never did. He said he had yet to find the girl that made him feel love and...well, other things."

"That doesn't mean he's gay, Ginny. Maybe he _hasn't_ found the right girl yet."

"That's what I thought, at first, but then... Well, I don't think Harry will ever find the right girl. He's dating girls because he thinks that's what he should be doing. That's what's expected of him. He thinks he should have those feelings for a girl, but he just doesn't. I don't think he realizes what that means. I don't think it would ever occur to him that he might like boys."

"So, what, we have to make him think about it?" Hermione asked, wondering how they would accomplish that. She could well imagine his reaction to being told he was gay.

"Well, yes, but not all at once. We can't just _tell_ him, of course. But I think Draco joining our group is a good first step. They'll be spending more time together, at least."

"Wait. Even if Harry is gay–and I'm still not convinced he is–that doesn't necessarily mean he'll develop feelings for Draco," Hermione pointed out.

"I know Harry and I know Draco. I think they would be good together. They have things in common; they both have dark pasts, they've both been ostracized, they both have a certain notoriety in the wizarding world. They're even both rich. And they would complement each other so well. Harry is more intense and wears his emotions on his sleeve. Draco is lighter in public, but can be just as intense in private–with those very few he feels comfortable around. He doesn't trust easily, whereas Harry...well, maybe Harry trusts _too_ easily. Harry could help to draw Draco out of his shell, while Draco could help Harry to deal with his more intense emotions."

"You've actually thought of this," Hermione said, a little surprised. She had never thought Ginny would put so much thought into it.

"I want them both happy, Hermione. And if they can both be happy together, even better. You don't know Draco yet, but he is a good person. Or, he can be, anyway. Well, for a Malfoy. With their pasts, they deserve happiness. And if I can help them find that, I will," she said earnestly.

Hermione sighed. "I guess I agree. Let Operation: Potter/Malfoy Romance begin."

-99-

**A/N: **I am sorry this is a shorter chapter. I've actually had this chapter finished for a few days, but I kept toying with trying to add more. I finally gave up and realized that this chapter needs to be kept this way to work. Think of it as a transitional chapter. It will give everyone time to get used to the thought of Harry/Draco (though it's not certain any relationship will work out) and the thought of Draco joining the team. And yes, I've always planned on Draco joining in (he's such fun to write with) but I never thought I'd manage it so early in the story.

To all those who don't like slash, don't worry, there won't be any explicit Draco/Harry (and for all those who do like it, sorry to say the most you'll get is the odd kiss, providing they do end up together). If you're not a fan of Draco/Harry, you can still read without having to worry the story will turn into a romance, or that the story will have explicit slash content. Neither option really works for this story. If you really, really can't tolerate slash, I have a really good suggestion: stop reading the story. Because I'm not taking this subplot out. I worked hard to get this story to a point where the insanity of Draco/Harry would actually be a lesser insanity. I worked hard to put in all those Ginny/Draco hints to throw you all off the trail. And I worked hard to bring this plot in the direction of a non-Hermione romance, that still works within the confines of the story. It's been in the back of my mind to add this particular ship ever since starting the story, but I never thought I'd be able to make it work. Well, I still might not be able to make it work one hundred percent, but I've gotten to the point where it might, with some effort, actually work. So if you don't like, well, not my problem. I'm fine with you not reading. No, really, I am. And don't bother leaving reviews about how much you hate the ship, or slash in general. I mostly find it amusing when people will read all 16 chapters of the story, then leave a review saying they don't like it. I mean, if you hate it that much, why did you just sit and read through 16 chapters of it??

We'll get back to the tasks in the next chapter, not to worry. We'll get to see Draco officially join the group, and the members' various reactions (one of them is very against Draco joining them, and you may just be surprised as to who it is). There will be some insights into Harry's thoughts and feelings. And new and shocking (or maybe just amusing) developments concerning the shrine and our favourite Potions Master. Thanks again for reading and reviewing!!

Last thing, I promise. I'm just wondering if you like the title/summary and list of each task format that I used in this chapter, or if you prefer the usual format. Personally, I like this one better, because it reminds the reader exactly what tasks are still being performed and gives a little teaser of what's to come. But if the majority prefer the old format, I may go back to that one. Thanks again!


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: **I'm really, really sorry about the wait between chapters. The post-op recovery took a lot longer than I could have anticipated. Once again, I'm really very sorry.

Just to let anyone interested know, I've been updating the blog for this story (link on profile). I will no longer post the chapters and notes, but just the notes on each chapter. Also, once I am up to date, I will answer questions left in reviews there, so as not to clutter the Author's Notes. So feel free to continue to leave questions, but keep in mind I will answer them at the blog. Thanks.

Also, someone pointed out (and thank you very much) that there is the small matter of declaring Pansy, Blaise, and other Slytherins dead when, apparently, I had them alive in earlier chapters. Honestly, the only thing I can say to that is 'Oops.' In earlier drafts, I had some of the Slytherins involved more in the story, but soon realized that I really only wanted Draco involved. Involving more people would just be too complicated. Even later, when I realized I would go more in depth about The War, I realized there had to be casualties, and what better casualties than the Slytherins who I no longer needed? Completely my fault, and that's not really an excuse, but there it is. Thanks for letting me know, please continue to do so. And one of these days, I'll reupload the corrected chapters to FFN. Eventually...

**Chapter 18: A Revelation**

_...In which something interesting is made known to the Potions Master_

**The continuation of:**

**Task 14: Set up a shrine to him. Somewhere very public**

**Task 19: Drop vague hints that Filch likes him a little more than is strictly necessary**

**Task 20: Make casual but loud references to Harry Potter being considered for an Order of Merlin**

Hermione had yet to inform the rest of the group about their newest member. By dinner time that evening, Ginny was threatening to tell the group herself if Hermione wouldn't get it over with. Her suggestion that she invite Draco to meet with them without telling the rest of the group was met with a stern glare worth of Molly Weasley herself. All through dinner, she entertained various scenarios, trying to predict how the group would react. Ron, of course, would be the most upset. She imagined him jumping up, eyes flashing, shouting something or other concerning his hatred towards all things Slytherin. Ginny, of course, was okay with the idea, and would try to calm Ron down. She didn't think Parvati or Lavender would mind, though she was certain Parvati would wonder what, exactly, was going on; Parvati's pragmatic mind worked in ways the Head Girl couldn't always fathom. As for Lavender, she would probably flirt outrageously with the blond Slytherin, which Hermione supposed she should take as acceptance. As for Harry...

She paused in mid-motion, her fork halfway to her mouth, as she thought of Harry's reaction. She realized she didn't know how he would react. As was often the case, Harry was the wild card. Hermione could rarely gauge his reactions while he was experiencing them, let alone beforehand. She set her fork down, going through the possibilities in her mind. He might not react at all; Harry could be very closemouthed when he wanted to be, and especially when he didn't know his own emotions. He could agree with Ron, and blow up at the inclusion of a Slytherin. Then again, he might not mind Draco joining their group; as far as she knew, he no longer had any personal problems with the blond. Their animosity seemed to be on principle only: Slytherin and Gryffindor rivalry.

That Hermione could not predict Harry's reaction bothered her more than she wanted to admit. He was her best friend, and she always fancied that she understood him better than most. But now she wondered if she hadn't been fooling herself. When was the last time she and Harry really talked, the last time he shared anything of meaning with her? She couldn't remember. Months, at least, since the end of the war. When had their relationship changed, she wondered, and why hadn't she noticed?

She pushed those thoughts from her mind, saving them for a time when she could fully examine them. Dinner was over, and she was dreading the conversation to come. If she only knew what their reaction would be, she knew she wouldn't be so nervous. Draco caught her eye as she followed the group out of the Great Hall. She gave him a small smile and a nod, which he returned with the barest hint of a smirk and a small wink. Goyle and Crabbe lumbered behind, following him as though they would be lost without his leadership. _Who knew,_ Hermione thought,_ maybe they would be_.

They reached the Common Room too soon for her liking. She met Ginny's eyes, the younger girl giving her a look that said, _Well, get on it with it._ Hermione took a deep breath as the others sat down. She decided to get it over with as quickly as possible.

"Everyone," she said, waiting until they turned to look at her. "I have a small announcement to make."

"Not backing out of another task now, are you Hermione?" Ron asked, laughing.

"No, nothing like that. It's...well... There's another person who'd like to join our group." She winced inwardly; she should have just said it was Draco and be done with it, instead of dragging it out.

"What do you mean?" Parvati asked.

"Not with the tasks, surely?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded, but before she could speak, Lavender cut her off.

"How would they even _know_ about the tasks?"

"I told him," she said, holding up her hand before anyone else could interrupt. "Just listen. I couldn't think of a good excuse, so I just told him the truth." She saw Harry narrow his eyes. "I never dreamed he'd want to join, but I figured, why not?"

"And just who is _he_?" Harry asked.

"Draco Malfoy," she said softly. She waited for Ron to explode, for Harry to grow quiet and thoughtful, for Parvati to question her, and for Lavender to swoon. However, it seemed she didn't know her friends quite as well as she thought.

"_Draco Malfoy_?" Harry asked, jumping from his seat. "You're going to let a _Slytherin_ join our group?" Before Hermione could answer, he continued, his voice harsh, "Oh, nice going Hermione. Yes, let's recruit a _Slytherin_ to perform pranks on his Head of House. He'll certainly be on our side," he finished sarcastically.

"Wait a minute," Ron said, rounding on Harry, "you don't need to jump all over Hermione. And so what if he is a Slytherin? It's not as though they like Snape any better than we do, not once he stopped going easy on them after the war."

Before Harry could answer, Lavender spoke up. "Why does Malfoy want to join? What exactly did you tell him, Hermione?" She appeared curious rather than angry.

"He found the items we placed at the shrine, to try and implicate him," she answered. "He wanted an explanation, and of course I had none, so I told him the truth," she shrugged, trying to make light of it. "He seemed intrigued and asked if he could join. The only other Slytherin seventh years are Crabbe and Goyle, and apparently, he thought this would be more interesting. Granted, he didn't know about you lot until I told him; he thought I was on my own."

"So, Malfoy's going to join us," Parvati murmured, a smile curling her lips. "That _is_ interesting."

"Do you know what you're doing, Hermione?" Harry asked, still angry-looking. "Malfoy, in on the tasks? He'll tell Snape to curry favour with him first chance he gets! I can't believe you would just allow him into our group, without asking any of us. Now you've gone and told him all our secrets, Snape will be at our throats for an expulsion for sure," he shouted, causing whispers around the Common Room. Harry shook his head, then strode away from the group and towards the dormitory.

"Oi!" Ron shouted after him. "What's the matter with you, then?"

The group sat in silence as they watched Harry disappear into the dormitories. Ron seemed upset at Harry's outburst; Lavender and Parvati were clearly shocked; Ginny sat with a bemused expression upon her face, seemingly not at all surprised at his shouting. For Hermione's part, she couldn't decide what to feel. She had been completely off when trying to predict their reactions. She could hardly believe how wrong she had been. Ron was for Malfoy, Harry against, Lavender was being practical and Parvati was ready to flirt. Hermione didn't know if she had just never understood her friends or if they had somehow switched personalities. Either way, it left her shaken.

-99-

Harry refused to talk to anyone, Hermione learned the next morning at breakfast. Not only had he not answered any of Ron's questions the night before, he completely ignored the rest of them. He sat perfectly still, silently and methodically eating his breakfast. She could see the mutinous anger outlined in his features, but that wasn't what struck her. If she knew her friend–and she had to admit, last night's reactions had shaken that confidence–she would say he was sulking.

By lunch, the situation had not improved. Harry sat with the group, but was clearly not a part of it. He reminded Hermione of nothing more than a child pouting to himself in a corner. The thought caused her to chuckle to herself, which earned her a glare from Harry. She sighed silently.

"How long are you going to pout, then, Potter?" she asked archly, the use of his last name jerking his head to meet her eyes.

"I'm not pouting," he said through clenched teeth.

"Oh? Then what do you call this?" she asked, lazily waving a hand to indicate his aloof manner.

By now, not only were the rest of the group watching, but a fair amount of other Gryffindors as well.

"You have no idea what I'm feeling," he said, glaring at her, before getting up and striding away.

"Tell me then!" she shouted at his retreating back. He paused, but continued without turning back. The rest of the group was very still, looking warily at her. Or so she thought.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger," a silky voice said from behind her. "If you and your _boyfriend_," he turned the word into a curse, "must quarrel, please refrain from making a spectacle of yourselves in the Great Hall."

She turned around, calmly stepping away from the table and bending to retrieve her bag. "Perhaps you should give that advice to your own admirer, Professor Snape," she said lightly, indicating Filch–watching from a shadowy corner--with a slight nod of her head.

She watched Snape's jaw clench with a profound sense of satisfaction before exiting the Great Hall. She passed by the shrine and laughed aloud at the expression of hatred on Snape's face.

"Miss Granger!" she heard him clearly, though he hadn't raised his voice. She turned to see that Snape had followed her. His eyes were narrowed and she caught a glimpse of calculation in his dark eyes before they were once again rendered emotionless.

"Yes?"

"I will find a way to punish you for this–this–" he waved his arm at the shrine, unable to come up with an adequate word. "For this."

"Whatever do you mean, sir?"

"You know very well what I mean," he said, glowering down at her. "I know you made this–this–_thing_."

Hermione was saved from answering by a commotion further down the hall. All she could hear was yelling. She and Snape exchanged a glance, then strode toward the noise.

"You liar!" a small Slytherin girl screamed. "_I _did it!"

"_You_?" a Ravenclaw boy sneered. "You wouldn't know the first thing about those spells!"

Hermione didn't know either of them, but thought the Slytherin was a fifth year and the Ravenclaw a sixth year.

"I made the shrine! Don't _dare_ try to steal my work!"

She felt Snape flinch beside her and could hardly contain her grin.

"I've known him longer than you! And far better, I daresay," the Ravenclaw said haughtily, a sly grin upon his lips, implying something Hermione was certain was not true. Or at least, she hoped it wasn't, she thought, eying Snape suspiciously.

He glared at her a moment before saying, in his silkiest of voices, "Do you, Hawthorne?"

The boy gaped at Snape while the Slytherin smirked. Clearly, Hawthorne had not realized Snape was listening. "I–that is to say–Sir, I–" he stuttered until Snape raised his hand.

"Twenty-five points from Ravenclaw for making lascivious implications concerning a professor," he said, before turning to the still-smirking Slytherin. "As for you, Miss Alexander, twenty points from Slytherin for lying. Do not let me catch you–either of you–at it again."

"But, sir, it's not–" the girl broke off when she saw the look on Snape's face. "Sorry, sir." Both students hurried away.

Snape rounded on Hermione before she could wipe the wide grin from her face. "As for _you_... you know something about this, do you not?"

"About what?" Hermione asked warily.

"This, this, madness!"

"Madness? Could you be more specific?"

"These students claiming they have put up the," his lip curled, "_shrine._ I know it was you," he raised his hand as she opened her mouth, "do not bother denying it. I checked, and it is not, technically and most unfortunately, against any specific school rules."

Hermione remained silent, giving nothing away. There was a difference between him having a strong suspicion and her confirming that suspicion.

"But what have you done to make these other students willing to take the blame for it?"

"Other students?" Hermione echoed. This was the first she had heard about such a thing.

"Are you that stupid, girl? These last two are hardly the first to take credit for the shrine! I've docked points from at least ten other students bragging about the fact in my classes!"

Hermione laughed aloud, ignoring the look of shocked outrage upon his face. She tried her best to stop laughing, but as soon as she looked at the expression on his face, she started all over again. She leaned back against the wall for balance, her arms around her sides.

"Miss Granger," Snape said, moving in on her and putting one arm to either side of her body, effectively trapping her. She sobered quickly, though she could feel a small smile still upon her face. "Do not test my patience."

"Honestly, sir, if I had constructed the shrine–not that I did, but if I had–I would never ask others to take the blame for me. And if I did–not that I would, but if I did–I wouldn't ask anybody stupid enough to do so in front of you, and in your class, no less." Hermione watched his face closely, trying to gauge whether or not he believed her. Hermione wondered to herself why so many were trying to take credit for the shrine. Some perverse desire to be the next Fred or George Weasley?

But then Hermione was confronted with evidence to the contrary, in the form of Snape's face, so close to her own. She remembered her conversation with Lavender and Parvati, about his improved looks. Now that she was mere inches away, she had to admit, the changes made a world of difference. His hair was shiny and wispy, looking baby-soft. His eyes were dark orbs rimmed with the black lace of his perfectly curled eyelashes. _Why is it_, Hermione thought incongruously to herself, _that men always have better eyelashes than women?_

Hermione knew the moment Snape figured out that she knew the real reason. All at once, his eyes locked onto hers and a sense of eager command filled his features. "You _do_ know. Tell me."

Hermione knew she was a bad liar, but she had to try anyway. "No, honestly, sir I–"

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your lies, Miss Granger," he whispered. "Tell me."

"You won't like it," she said in a small voice, wincing a little at how scared she sounded.

"I already don't like it," he said, noticing her wince and pulling back from her, though his arms remained on either side of her shoulders.

She took a deep breath. "It seems that, what with your new...look...you might have some...admiring...students." She closed her eyes, waiting for him to yell. When he remained silent, she opened them to see him looking down at her with an expression of puzzlement.

"Admiring students?" he echoed, clearly not understanding. "I would rather they respect me, but I suppose admiring is the first step," he murmured. "My new what?"

"I don't think you quite understand," she said, sighing. _Nothing for it._ "Since you've improved your looks, the students have noticed. It would appear they...fancy...you," she said, wincing at the juvenile sound of what she had said.

"They...fancy...me?" he asked, obviously not believing her. "I told you not to lie to me," he continued in a dangerous voice.

"I'm not! You're the one that went and got better looking! Don't blame me for the consequences," she finished, wondering whether she had just admitted aloud that she thought Snape was better looking. _Well_, she thought_, better looking isn't the same as good looking, right?_

"And these...consequences...would be _admirers_," he sneered. He glared at her, clearly trying to decide whether or not he believed her. She started slightly when he abruptly asked, "And you, Miss Granger?"

"And me what?" she asked dumbly.

"Are you one of these..._admirers_?" he asked softly.

She froze, before dipping quickly under his arm and beginning to walk away. "And if I am?" she asked lightly, glancing back at him over her shoulder. He regarded her with an indecipherable dark look. She began walking away, feeling his eyes boring into her shoulder. She held her head high and, on a daring whim, swung her hips more than was usually her wont while walking.

Snape never saw the fierce grin and look of triumph in her eyes, but he didn't need to. Everything he needed to know, he could see in her walk.

Once again, he had been bested by the Gryffindor.

And once again, he vowed it would be the last time.

-99-

Dumbledore and McGonagall slipped away from the scene silently.

"You mean to let this continue then?" she asked fiercely.

"Don't worry for the girl, Minerva," the headmaster answered, blue eyes twinkling. "She can hold her own."

"And when he gets tired of this game?"

"He'd never harm her. And as I said, she's more than capable."

"And if...?" she let the question trail, raising her eyebrows.

"What will happen will happen, and needs no input from either of us."

Her eyes flashed, outrage upon her face. "Albus, you mad, puffskein-brained fool! What are you planning?"

"Naught, naught. As I've said–"

But she cut him off. "Yes, yes, she can hold her own."

"Really, Minerva, if you insist on worrying for someone, you might perhaps worry for Severus. I have a feeling he is in for more than he bargained," he said cryptically, before strolling away, humming to himself while putting a sugar quill between his lips.

Her eyes narrowed but the deputy headmistress held her tongue. She knew better than to argue with Albus when he was at his most mysterious. Shaking her head at their folly, she turned and paced briskly down the corridor in the opposite direction of Albus.

-99-


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: **I don't believe I addressed this in the last chapter, but someone asked why Hermione seemed surprised at the tasks, when she had been involved in the original conversation where the group came up with the tasks. I never thought to make this clear, which is my own fault, so I'll do so in this chapter.

I really hope this helps to clear things up, and if you don't understand something, please let me know. It's my job as the author to convey this stuff to you in the story, and if I'm not, I need to know so I can start. Along those same lines of thought, I'd like to remind everyone that I write this story using UK English, and try to use the proper Britishisms, so if something looks like it's spelled incorrectly, it may be because of that (for instance, in American English, it's focusing; in British, it's focussing).

Also, I say it's the continuation of the shrine, but technically, that task is finished. Now we're just seeing the after-effects.

**Chapter 19: Slytherin-Gryffindor Relations**

_...In which Harry stops sulking and Draco reveals interesting House secrets_

**The continuation of:**

**Task 14: Set up a shrine to him. Somewhere very public**

**Task 19: Drop vague hints that Filch likes him a little more than is strictly necessary**

**Task 20: Make casual but loud references to Harry Potter being considered for an Order of Merlin**

Hermione was still laughing as she entered the Gryffindor Common Room. She could hardly wait to tell the others. Her enthusiasm faded, however, upon noticing Harry sitting alone in the corner, shooting petulant glares at the rest of the group. _Honestly,_ she thought, _enough is enough._

Ignoring the others, she marched straight up to Harry. He reluctantly met her gaze.

"Come with me." She turned on her heels and strode away, trusting that Harry would follow. She sent a small nod to the rest of the group as she passed, Ron shrugging and sending an "I hope you know what you're doing" look in her direction. Ginny smiled, clearly thinking it was about time someone did something about Harry. She exited the Common Room and walked to her own room, Harry following, arms crossed and head down. He threw himself into a chair upon entering her room, and she sat on the bed.

"Talk," she said simply.

"I don't want to," he said. He must have realized how childish he sounded, because he straightened and met Hermione's gaze. "You don't understand."

"I know. Tell me, and maybe I will."

"It's not that simple," he said, dragging a hand through his hair.

"It never is," she said, a small smile pulling at her lips.

He took a deep breath, but remained silent.

"Why are you so opposed to Draco?" she finally asked.

"It's not–I mean, it isn't–I–" He broke off suddenly, squeezing his eyes shut behind his glasses. He sighed, then started over. "It isn't Malfoy," he said. "Not him in particular."

"Then why were you so upset?" she asked, puzzled.

"It's not Malfoy," he repeated. "It's me. I just feel so...so guilty." Hermione frowned, but nodded at him to continue. "I've been a prat."

"I know," she said, smiling at him.

"No, not about this. Well, I have been about this too, but I meant before. Did you know I knew about Lucius Malfoy? Turning spy, I mean? Oh, not the reasons why," he said, noticing her upraised eyebrows. "I reckon only Malfoy himself knows the full reasons, and maybe Snape. But I was told of his turn and I–I took it badly. Very badly."

"That's not such a surprise," she said gently. "None of us would have been overly thrilled at the news, and you had more reason to doubt him than any."

"It wasn't just Malfoy though. It was all the Slytherins. I didn't trust any of them. I sent them into danger, over and over again, forcing them to prove their loyalties. And then–Millicent–It's my fault, Hermione," Harry said, tears sparkling in his eyes.

"Harry, you couldn't have known," Hermione started to say.

He cut her off. "That's just it, Hermione. I _did_ know. I gave some of the most dangerous jobs to the Slytherins, knowing full well what they were going into. I forced them to prove their loyalty with their magic, their strength, their tears, their blood and, ultimately, their life. I was so _stupid_, so naive. I was blinded by my prejudice. It sounds so childish now, House rivalry. I knowingly sent Slytherins to their death to prove to me that they were loyal. And they did it. They didn't hesitate. They knew it was a test, and they never hesitated. She was braver than I ever was, Hermione. I saw it in her eyes, the day I told her the plan," he paused, gathering his resolve. Tears were streaking his face, but he paid them no mind. Hermione wondered if he even realized he was crying.

"It was a foolhardy plan and even Fred and George would have argued against it. She was to infiltrate a Death Eater party that neither Snape nor Malfoy had been invited to. A party for...for women only. Voldemort wasn't supposed to be there. Small comfort, that, but it wasn't meant to be a suicide mission. She was to learn what there was to learn, watching the torture of the male hostages, the blood and the sex," he said harshly. Another deep breath, and he continued.

"No one person knew every other Death Eater, only Voldemort himself. And he wasn't supposed to be there. It was dangerous, of course, but I never meant–never expected... Her mother recognized her, recognized her voice. No one knew Millicent's mother was a Death Eater, least of all Millicent herself. But her mother knew her daughter was not a Death Eater, because she was not yet seventeen. And then... no one knows the rest. Voldemort was there and he didn't take kindly to a spy, or so we must assume. After that, we know nothing. Only that she died and her body was left where it fell. We only know that much because of Snape, who performed Legilimancy on the mother. She died before he could extract the whole story."

"Harry..." Hermione didn't know what to say. She knew he felt guilty for doubting the Slytherins, but she never dreamed...

"There it is. That was the day I realized my hatred was blinding me, causing me to do foolish, risky things. I put it aside. I realized there was no room for doubt among us, no room for House rivalry or other foolish mentalities. And yet, there were times when I couldn't help but think, when the enemy seemed one step ahead of us, _Maybe Malfoy is a spy. Maybe Snape. Maybe..._ Always maybes. And then..." he trailed off, wiping the tears from his face. He was breathing too fast, too shallow.

Hermione patted the bed beside her, and Harry gratefully settled in next to her. She lay back, his head on her shoulder, stroking his hair as he calmed.

"I learned where the thoughts were coming from," he said quietly at last. "It was Voldemort all along. I never did learn proper legilimancy. He'd been using my doubts and fears against me. And for that, Millicent died. For that, countless others were injured. For that, I risked us all. Facing Malfoy... Draco... it will be hard," he said simply.

"But Harry, if you can face Draco, be friendly, maybe it will help assuage your guilt. Then you'll know that it wasn't you, it was Voldemort. That on your own, you can put aside old differences, free yourself of the old prejudices."

"I never thought of that," he said thoughtfully after a pause. "It might help, to know that without _his_ influence, I can live without prejudice and hatred towards someone, simply because of their House."

"I was thinking we could use the Room of Requirement now that we've got a non-Gryffindor with us," she said, changing the subject to lighter matters. "If it's free, of course." The Room of Requirement was no longer the secret it had once been. Students were frequenting the room for various reasons, the most common being _alone time_ with another.

They talked of inconsequential matters long into the night. Laughing at the various tasks, wondering how Malfoy would react to their plans, reminiscing over previous pranks. Hermione wasn't sure who fell asleep first, but when she awoke the next morning, Harry was already gone.

-99-

It was at breakfast on the first Friday of December that Dumbledore announced the news.

"If I could have your attention, please," the Headmaster said simply, standing up. Everyone quieted and turned to face the head table. "Ah, thank you. It is with the utmost delight that I announce the first annual Celebration Ball." He paused as students whispered over the news. "I can see that you are as excited as the staff over this newest development." Hermione doubted that; clearly, the students were far more excited. The only two professors that looked pleased were Tonks and Flitwick, the small wizard beaming widely, though whether that was excitement or his usual good cheer, Hermione was unsure. McGonagall's lips were pursed, Snape glared at Dumbledore's back, Hooch and Sprout exchanged long-suffering looks, and the rest of the staff displayed looks of polite interest.

"The ball will be held during the upcoming holiday break, so if you wish to attend, please be certain to sign your names to the list of those who are staying at the castle. Your Head of House will review the rules and other pertinent information with you tonight in your common room. But I've taken enough of your time," he said smiling, returning to his seat.

"A Celebration Ball, what do you reckon it will be like?" Parvati asked.

"Probably like the Yule Ball in fourth year, I would imagine," Lavender replied.

"Though hopefully with a better partner," Parvati laughed, winking at Harry, who was very quiet.

"What's up?" Ron asked, nudging him. "Not still peeved about Malfoy, are you?"

"No. Just thinking. _Celebration_ Ball. It'll be a year since Voldemort was defeated," he said simply.

"Right," Ron said. "Sometimes it seems like it all happened a lot longer ago than simply a year."

"And sometimes it seems like it was only yesterday."

"That too, mate."

"Are you all going then?" Hermione asked.

"I have nowhere else to go," Harry said simply.

"You _know _you're always welcome at the Burrow," Ginny said a bit sharply. "But I'll stay, it might be interesting."

"Do you even need to ask us?" Lavender asked, indicating her and Parvati.

"I was going to stay anyway," Ron said. "Last year and all, might as well. How about you?"

"It could be interesting," she answered, looking at Ginny and sliding a glance towards Draco. Ginny's eyes lit up; Hermione knew the girl was already plotting some way to get Harry and Draco closer together. Hermione rather thought that, if not for her bravery, Ginny might well have been sorted into Slytherin. She had the ambition and more than enough cleverness.

Hermione was lost in thought, finishing her breakfast, when she noticed the group looking at something behind her. _Not Snape again,_ she thought, turning.

"Hermione," Draco said, nodding at her.

"Draco," Hermione said, smiling warily.

"Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the Celebration Ball?" he asked politely.

"It would be a pleasure," she said, watching a smirk break out across his face. She could feel a grin spreading across her own features as well. A quick glance showed that most of the remaining students were watching the scene unfold.

"Oh no," he said, taking her hand. "The _pleasure_," a slight emphasis on the word, "is all mine." With a flourish, he bent over her hand and kissed it. She was hard-pressed not to laugh aloud. Draco looked as though he felt the same, though he was no longer looking at her, but instead at the group behind her. _Probably at Ron and Harry's faces_, she thought gleefully.

He walked away, seemingly oblivious to the stares and whispers that had broken out through the Great Hall. Even after the war, some students still considered a Slytherin and Gryffindor couple scandalous. She turned around, facing the group, and this time didn't stop the laughter when she noticed Harry and Ron's faces. Harry looked shocked and Ron's face was a mixture of shock, indignation, anger, and jealousy. Though not, she was sure, jealousy that Draco had asked her first; more likely, jealousy at the smooth manner in which he had done so. She and Ron had tried a relationship, and the results had been disastrous.

Ginny met her eyes, giving her a small nod. Hermione knew very well what she meant: Draco was now one step closer to Harry.

-99-

Snape paced his rooms, dragging a hand through his tangled black hair. He snarled when his hand got caught in a tangle, then Summoned his brush, dragging it roughly through the knot, relishing the pain as it forced him to think. The Granger girl had once again had the last word, had once again gotten the upper hand. He was a _Slytherin_, for Merlin's sake; a grown Slytherin man in his prime, one of the most powerful legilimens in the country, a renowned potions brewer, and a former pupil of the Dark Arts. Yet this Gryffindor, this _girl_, was managing to get the better of him. She was able to come up with things that seemed perfectly designed to drive him slowly insane. And the best he could come up with? The usual Slytherin sarcasm and dry wit.

_Yes, they've worked well so far, haven't they, the old Slytherin standbys? _he thought. He tapped the brush against his palm, trying to think of a way to recapture his dignity. Or at the very least, catch a small glimpse of it.

The problem wasn't that Snape lacked ideas with which to torment Granger; various scenarios ran through his mind almost constantly. His current favourite was the one in which he locked her in his dungeon and forgot about her; unfortunately, Dumbledore frowned upon misplacing students, which was really a shame, because he had longed to _misplace_ Longbottom for years.

Then there was the scenario in which he duelled with the girl, managing to strike her speechless–if such a thing were possible, he couldn't imagine how Potter or Weasley coped–with his prowess and quick-thinking while duelling. But that, he thought uncomfortably, was a little too close to showing off for his comfort, and if there was one thing he was not, it was a show off. How he had despised James Potter, for doing that very thing... But that was another line of daydreaming entirely, not to mention a moot point as the man was already dead.

No, it wasn't that he lacked ideas; rather, it was that he lacked _appropriate _ideas. He was unable to think of anything he could do without facing a challenge to duel by Minerva, the prospect of being fired by Dumbledore, or being hunted down by her friends and caught alone on a dark and stormy night, perhaps drunk and without the proper level of sobriety to adequately use a wand. He surmised that he could take the Weasley boy if drunk, and perhaps Patil and Brown; but even he was willing to admit that those three plus Potter and the girl Weasley–and perhaps even Draco, he was unsure of developments in that department–were more than any inebriated Potions Master could reasonably be expected to handle.

He sat down heavily on the arm of his couch. He could see now that mere threats were not going to force the girl into submission. If he was honest with himself, he had known idle threats would be of no use. As intimidating as he was–and if Longbottom were to be consulted, he was _quite_ intimidating, stuffed vulture hat be damned–the Granger girl was not one to back down from a challenge. And by issuing those threats, he had thrown down the ultimate gauntlet.

And now he was stuck. If he backed down, he would look like a coward, and no Slytherin was a coward. They might save their own skin and cut their losses, yes, but that was good common sense, not cowardice. If he continued with his vague, idle threats, she would believe she had won, which was obviously unacceptable. His only choice was to back up his threats, to pay her back with more than private notes of a future reprisal. And therein lie the problem: he could think of nothing that would work while still being school appropriate.

He tried to think on past escapades, to see if he could find inspiration. There had been the time he had almost drowned Black with a well-placed _Petrificus Totalis_. If only Potter hadn't been there to hear the splash... But no, he could hardly drown the girl. There was the time he replaced Nott's toothpaste with bubbotuber pus. But no, he hardly wanted to try and poison the girl. Well, he did sometimes, but it was hardly the right solution. Then there was the time he had extended his canines and played on the vampire rumour in order to get back at a snooty Narcissa Malfoy. Though, granted, instead of scaring her the thought had done the exact opposite and he had somehow–accidentally and through no fault of his own, of course–ended up in bed with Malfoy's fiancee. But hardly appropriate for the Granger girl, though oddly alluring in its own way.

Snape jerked in surprise hard enough to propel himself backwards, arms windmilling as his back thumped the sofa. He bounced once, then managed to slip on to the floor in an ungainly heap of black robes and newly-bruised elbows. _I did _not_ just think that_, he said to himself, propping himself up and leaning his back against the couch, his long legs stretched in front of him. _She's a child!_

_Not quite_, another part of himself said. He recognized this voice as the one that always gave him bad counsel and got him into trouble. Ironically enough, the voice sounded like Lucius'. _She is eighteen, after all._

_I am _not_ arguing with myself about an eighteen year old child. And_, he continued,_ I don't care how old she is, because that did not just happen. I did not think it. It was never a thought. I didn't even think of thinking it. I didn't even..._ he stopped abruptly, realizing how ridiculous he seemed, arguing with himself. Though Lucius–erm, that is, his own mind–had a good point. Not that it mattered, of course. But something to keep in mind. Should the need ever come up–that is to say, should he ever require the information.

He pushed himself up from the floor, vowing to himself that he would no longer think of Herm–the Granger girl anymore. Only the task he had to perform. Once he thought of it. If only he could...

_Yes,_ he thought. _Yes, that might just do nicely..._

-99-

Hermione looked around at the group, sitting in a circle on large puffy cushions, as they waited for the newest member to arrive. She remembered meeting her for the D.A. meetings, though of course Draco hadn't joined them back then. She could tell, by the look on Harry's face across from her, he was thinking something along the same lines. Lavender and Parvati were speculating loudly to her right on Hermione's _coziness_ with the Slytherin, trying to bait her with lewd suggestions of what the pair might get up to after the Ball. Hermione had to fight hard not to laugh; knowing what she did about Draco's feelings, the very thought that there was aught _romantic_ about their date was absurdly laughable. She chanced a quick glance at Ginny on her left; the younger girl rolled her eyes at Hermione.

Draco slipped in, unnoticed by everyone but Hermione and Ginny. The two girls exchanged sly glances, before Hermione welcomed Draco in a loud enough voice to stop the others' chatter. They watched as he un-self-consciously flopped onto a large green cushion between her and Ginny, his fingers laced and sitting demurely on his lap. He looked the perfect picture of innocence; Hermione was hard put not to laugh, especially when she heard someone–she suspected Ginny–stifle a snort.

"So, how does this work, exactly?" Draco asked, his question directed to the group as a whole.

"You'll have to ask them," Hermione said, indicating the rest of the group. "I'm just the victim."

"You mean, you don't know any of the tasks?" he asked, his voice full of surprise.

"I know them, or some anyway. They came up with them on the train at the end of last year. I was there, and I helped with a few, but this lot reordered them. Now that I think of it, I'm not exactly sure how or why they reordered them," she finished, looking expectantly at them.

"For the element of surprise, of course," Ginny drawled, in a fair imitation of Draco.

"Actually, there was a method to our madness," Parvati answered, before Draco could respond. "We ordered them from the least..." she trailed off, looking for the right word.

"The least offensive?" Lavender offered.

"I suppose that will work," Parvati nodded. "From the least offensive to the most. Not that the tasks are _offensive_, of course. But the ones that are worst we saved until later in the year. We figured that, by that time, Snape would be somewhat prepared, after all the lesser tasks."

"Or driven mad by the earlier ones, and in no condition to care about the later ones," Ron added, grinning.

"So, you see, I remember some of the tasks, but the real surprise is finding out when and for how long I have to do each one. And, of course, how exactly to pull it off."

"Interesting," Draco murmured. "So you lot just tell her the tasks then, and let her complete it however she pleases?"

"Sometimes," Ginny answered. "It depends on the task."

"Like with the current one," Ron cut in. "Hermione has to drop vague hints that Filch likes Snape a little more than is strictly necessary."

Draco's eyes bulged. "Snape? And Filch?"

Everyone laughed at his reaction. "That was _my_ reaction," Ron said, smiling at the Slytherin. Hermione marvelled at the ease with which he conversed with the blond. "Still, Hermione said the git nearly fainted when she dropped the hint. Sometimes we help, like we did with the shrine."

"What task is she working on now? The shrine, still?"

"_I'm_ working on task nineteen, the task they just told you about. We've finished with the shrine, though it's still there, obviously. Speaking of which, who's been renewing the spells?" she asked, curious.

The group looked at each other expectantly, but no one claimed to have renewed any of the various charms.

"Someone must be renewing them," Draco said. "If it's not one of you..."

"I did see Flitwick lingering around the shrine yesterday," Lavender said, eyes narrowed.

"Now that I think of it," Ron said, laughing, "I saw McGonagall doing her own _lingering_ earlier today."

"I thought Tonks was admiring the shrine, but she was there an awfully long time," Ginny added, grinning.

"But wait a minute, Hermione," Parvati said. "With the shrine finished, no matter the unasked for help we seem to be getting, you're supposed to be working on task nineteen _and_ task twenty: make casual but loud references to Harry being considered for an Order of Merlin."

"You're right," Hermione said, feeling a twinge of guilt at not having attempted the latest task. She laughed inwardly at her reaction. _It's not like it's course work, Hermione_, she said archly to herself. Then she looked at Harry, realizing he had been silent throughout the exchange. He looked uncomfortable, as if torn between joining in the laughter of the group or going back to his sulky disapproval of Draco. He kept sending darting glances from underneath his lashes towards the Slytherin. Thinking of one Slytherin reminded her of her last encounter with another.

"However, I did learn something interesting yesterday," she added, relating her experience with Snape to the group.

"Oh, well, Cynthia Alexander. Right little slut, that one," Draco said negligently. "I wouldn't be surprised if she claimed to have seduced Snape. In fact, she's probably spreading the rumour as we speak."

"Even so, according to Snape, those two aren't the first to have claimed ownership of the shrine. He implied that he had already taken points from ten other students for saying the same."

"Now that _is_ interesting," Ginny said softly.

"_Now _what are you planning?" Harry asked, finally giving in to his desire to join in the banter with his friends. "I know that look only too well."

"Snape may know the shrine was really constructed by Hermione. But the rest of the students–and indeed, some of the staff–have no idea. We might perhaps help this rumour to grow."

"What would that gain us, though?" Draco asked shrewdly, already including himself in their group. "And what do you mean, _'some'_ of the staff. Surely, all of them are ignorant, though quite helpful all the same?"

"Not exactly," Hermione said, proceeding to tell him the story of Snape's surprise party. She was certain, however, to leave out his small role in the matter. Her glare directed at the rest of the group convinced them to do the same.

"Tonks and McGonagall, then," Draco said, almost to himself. "Perhaps even Flitwick. We'd best keep these allies in mind should we need their help later."

"Is there anything else we really need to discuss?" Hermione asked. "Draco is brought up to speed, or mostly so, at any rate. I know the two tasks I need to work on. I've told you of the latest developments, or the ones I've heard of, at any rate. Remember, we have to be in the Common Room when McGonagall comes to explain the Celebration Ball."

"Actually, I believe I may be able to provide some more information concerning these _developments_," Draco said, smirking.

"By all means, enlighten us," Ginny smirked back.

"Well, the talk in our Common Room oft turns to the brooding Potions Master. It would seem he has his share of admirers," Draco said softly, as though sharing a great secret. Hermione hid a grimace; she had neglected to share the end of her encounter with Snape, too embarrassed to admit how she had reacted to his question. She could almost hear his voice, even now, soft and sounding too intimate while trapped in the prison his arms had made._ "Are you one of these...admirers?" _

"Bloody hell," Ron said, shaking his head. "The man is a greasy Slytherin git–no offence, Malfoy–yet the man has students panting after him. Here I am, a good looking bloke, captain of the Quidditch team, and–"

"Yes, Ron," Ginny said dryly, rolling her eyes, "We're well aware of your myriad charms."

"Haven't you been paying attention, Ron?" Harry asked, smirking. "Apparently, big noses and greasy hair are in. At least mine is black," Harry continued. "Perhaps I'll grow it out, stop washing it for a while, and see how many admirers that gets me."

Lavender sighed in disgust, shaking her head at the pair. "Haven't _you_ been paying attention, Harry? Have you even _looked_ at the man lately?"

"What?" Harry and Ron asked simultaneously.

"Hopeless," Ginny said in a loud stage whisper to Draco.

"He doesn't have greasy hair or skin anymore. His teeth and skin are nicer. He's never looked better," Parvati finished.

Hermione laughed at the looks of horror on both of their faces. "It's true," she said, still laughing. "He does look better."

"Not you, too!

"No, I'm not an admirer," she said, ruthlessly dispelling a nagging twinge of doubt. "But I agree with Lavender and Parvati. The man looks healthy for a change."

"Now that we've all agreed the man does, indeed, look better," Draco said loudly over Harry and Ron's protests. "Back to his Slytherin admirers. Some of the more..._forward_...sixth years fancy they can seduce him."

"What makes those girls think the man will fall for them?" Ron asked.

"Did I say it was just girls?" Draco asked, his glance sliding quickly towards Harry. "There are just as many Slytherin males who think the same thing. Perhaps more."

"Are all Slytherins..." Ron asked, his voice trailing off.

"Are we all what?" Draco asked, clearly amused.

"You know," Ron said, lowering his voice. "You do both?"

"If you mean are most of us bisexual...? I can't say most, but a fair few of us are, yes. Does that bother you?"

"It's not my thing," Ron said. "But to each their own. Why, though?"

"Ah, well, that's simple enough. We're equal opportunity lovers." Draco laughed at the look on their faces. "More to choose from, isn't it?"

Ron looked thoughtful, elbowing Harry in the side. "I never thought of that..."

"Don't look at me!" Harry said, laughing. "I won't be part of your foray into Slytherin territory."

Hermione and Ginny met each other's eyes as the rest of the group laughed; Hermione could feel the slight flicker of alarm showing on her face. She did her best to hide her thoughts, but knew she failed when she met Draco's eyes. He was laughing, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. He didn't look like he was giving up though, she noticed, as he shifted his focus back on Harry.

"Our loss," Draco said lightly, his focus remaining on Harry for a moment longer. "But anyway, that's the news from my House. I've yet to hear people claiming ownership of the shrine, but doubtless I will sooner or later. I'll do my best to play one rumour against the other."

"Is that all?" Lavender asked.

"Actually, I have one last question," Draco said. "Exactly how many tasks are there?"

"Ninety-nine," the group answered, all at once, laughing.

"Ninety-nine?" Draco asked in surprise. "But, it's December, and you're only on task twenty," he pointed out, sobering the group.

"I hadn't thought of that," Harry said quietly. By the look on the rest of their faces, no one else had either.

"We need to work harder," Ron said.

"And faster," Ginny added.

"Grand," Hermione said. "Just grand."

-99-

**A/N:** Yes, a Ball may be considered cliched. But again, balls tend to be humor!fic staples. Why? Because funny stuff can happen so very easily while at a Ball. I don't know why that's true, but it is. So, cliched or no, there is a Ball. Funny stuff will happen at that Ball. And before the Ball... And hopefully after, as well.

I hope you liked this first glimpse of Draco as part of the group. More of that next chapter, along with more developments concerning, Snape, the shrine, the Ball, and the will they/won't they mystery of Harry and Draco. Also, I added the last bit to let you all know that I am indeed aware of how much time has passed and how little has been done. They'll start picking up pace soon enough, just watch. As for Ron...I'll be honest. I hate–absolutely _despise_–canon Ron. Because I don't really enjoy writing about characters I despise, Ron is going through a much needed attitude adjustment. His new attitude: easy going, loyal, always laughing, up for anything (well, almost).

For those of you wondering, I'm beginning to lean more towards an SS/HG romance (the last two chapters might have tipped you off). That doesn't mean it's definite. That doesn't mean I'm going to start writing NC-17 chapters. That doesn't mean I might not end up changing my mind. Whatever else this story may be, it is constantly changing and evolving. And the characters are always surprising me, especially when they're getting up to mischief, which seems to be what they like doing best.

For more insight into this fic and the characters, go to annoyingsnape dot blogspot dot com. There are notes for each chapter, where I talk about the characters, their choices, and point out any changes I may have made. Also, when it is fully updated, I will also post answers to questions there.


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